Read in the Dark
by RusNydia
Summary: Horror oneshots featuring the Harry Potter cast. Lily's too perfect. Sirius knows something is wrong. Peter wanders in a dark forest. Snape is a criminal sentenced to be Punished. Tobias shouldn't have hit his wife. Tom finds out how powerful hate is. Dudley picks on Harry one too many times. Everyone thought Madeye crazed. It was an accident Ron claims. And many more.
1. Introduction

It's a good evening isn't it? So close to Halloween, the time for us mere mortals to dress as the ghouls and monsters we have feared since childhood. For some of us, lighting a pumpkin and placing it on the step is protection enough from our wandering fears but others must do something more—something that would send chills up and down their spines.

It is my hope that these tales, some original and some not so much will be your medicine of choice. They are such lovely stories and enjoying each ghastly account should be as easy as… locking your door before something slips through.

I am sure that you all will enjoy the story of the man that just thought something was so terribly wrong. Or maybe the tale of a man that faces horrible consequences for being a criminal is more of your taste. After all vengeance is a dish best served with all. Perhaps the story of the perfect girl getting what's coming to her is what you have come here looking for.

Whatever it is, you are sure to find it here among these wicked and damned.

Before reading one must know that these stories do not come cheap. Staying up wakeless nights, nearly losing limbs to collect each painful detail was not easy. So listening to the warnings of gore… death… and overall disturbed happenings is not to be taken lightly. If you do not think you can handle the depraved mind of this particular author then you are free to scamper away.

If you think your stomach and psyche can handle it then, by all means, continue on!

After reading each of these lovely fables, be sure to look over your shoulder and check your closet before going to bed. That shadow at the bottom of your doorway or that inhalation you heard just a few inches away may not be 'just your imagination'.

Enjoy!

Oh my, there is one more thing to add. The people in this story are not my property, just my play toys. I own nothing except the ten fingers I luckily still have on my hands.


	2. Wrong featuring Sirius Black

None of the books happened for this 'scary' story.

Summary: Sirius knows that something is wrong… something is very, very wrong!

Words: 3,241

Rating: Low PG-13

Disclaimer: this story was originally a great movie that I can't remember the name of the movie so I don't own the story either.

(**)

It was Halloween—an entire year since the War has been over. It was kind of poetic justice that Voldemort was destroyed the same day he attempted to kill baby Harry by not only the young boy's father but by his very 'loyal' Potions Master who performed a ritual that banished Voldemort to the seventh circle of Hell.

Sirius shook his head and rid his mind of the son of a bitch that saved his godson and revealed the traitor among the Marauders. It was not the man that he hated that should be on his mind. It was too happy of a day to think about such ugly things.

No, he should be preparing for the children that would be pounding on his door and the people that would be coming over to feast on candy and muggle horror flicks. Sirius smiled and danced across the room but he stopped as he bumped into the one man he was trying to get out of his psyche.

"Watch where you are going, mutt," Severus hissed, shifting rather dramatically (in Sirius' opinion) until his items were safely settled in his arms. Sirius felt his mouth twist in a disgusting sneer as he saw the skinny Slytherin with his long arms stocked with potion vials for the theatrics and fabric of some costumes.

He could not believe that this piece of filth lived in his home much less shared a bed with one of his best friends. It wasn't that hard to believe that Regulus was the reason the two got together but one thing that still puzzled Sirius sometimes… what did Remus see in the slime ball?

"I do amazing things in bed," Severus smirked having heard what Sirius muttered and not thought.

Now, what happened next was _not_ Sirius' fault. He heard the words slip from between that ugly mouth and the urge to deck the bastard came immediately and he had never been one to ignore his instincts so Snape was on the ground, nursing a currently aching jaw and surrounded by vials, fabric, and even some candy within seconds.

"Oh Merlin, what happened in here!?" Remus immediately came running after hearing the crash and Severus' hiss of pain. The concerned werewolf assessed the situation in less than a minute and Sirius knew that he was in trouble.

Sirius tripped over his words, attempting to come up with something believable such as that he hadn't hit the greasy git for talking like that about Remus when it was obvious that something occurred between him and Snivellus. Remus dropped down by Severus who was shakily sitting up, both of his hands holding onto Remus for support dramatically.

A pout came to the Gryffindor's lips at the theatrics Snape was pulling. He hadn't even hit him that hard even if Snape was a skinny guy, the punch should have hardly hurt the bastard. Sirius glared at the air because he already knew that the bastard would dramatize it and Sirius would be the horrible villain that ate children in their sleep.

"I was just walking while balancing everything for the party when…" Severus glanced at Sirius and released a small smile that was just for the shaggy haired man. Sirius help back a growl and stopped himself from tackling the bastard back to the ground. He was in for it.

"I collided into Black and fell to the floor. It was a terrible mishap and I thank Black for not snickering at my shameful inelegance," Snape finished. Remus raised a brow and glanced at Sirius who was actually unconscious in a dead faint mentally because Snivellus didn't play the victim card like all the other times.

He realized that Remus was still staring at him suspiciously so he forced a small smile at the werewolf even though the man did not look too convinced. A moment passed in silence before Remus shrugged and helped Snape collect the fallen items. Now off the hook, Sirius turned with a relieved smile and prepared to leave but was stopped by a cold, delicate hand to his shoulder.

"What do you want, Snape?" Sirius groused upon seeing the hand connect to the former spy. He didn't owe the slimy bastard anything even though Remus would have rearranged his intestines if he had known that Sirius had hurt Severus thus causing his spill. Snape smiled softly but Sirius could see all of the evil intent in his eyes and it made him want to wince even though the fingers were soft and gentle and the voice was smooth.

"I just wanted to request a candy retrieval—we don't have nearly enough. The large pumpkin is only half full after all," Severus asked kindly.

(**)

The night was empty and cold. It had happened so suddenly. He had gone into the store and there had been people. He could still hear the shouts, laughter, and general warmness even though it was meant to be quite a 'scary' day in the muggle universe.

Then he had left to go into the candy store. When he had gotten out of the store, arms laden with bags, no one was outside except for his taxi, waiting silently and alone. Leaves were littering the ground, blowing in the chilly wind—the same wind that crept up his spine and bit at his unprotected hands and face. It was so odd and dead but he ignored it.

"Thanks for the ride," Sirius grunted, passing over the muggle money. The man grabbed it and drove away without a single glance or word to Black. The wizard raised a brow but didn't protest, instead watching at the cab left. He turned to his house and looked up at it for a long moment. He wasn't sure why he paused but he just had a feeling that it was the right thing to do.

Then he stepped towards his home, the tall creepy building having the correct feel for a horror setting. Sirius shook his head as he remembered that he had to live in this 'tall creepy building' and began to climb the stairs.

As he reached the top stair, Sirius felt a not too gentle… push. It was as if something had sideswiped him, nearly causing him to tumble down the concrete stairs but he held his balance and quickly looked around, not spotting anyone although he cocked his head to the side as he heard the loud bow of an automobile's horn.

It was strange but not enough to stop him from continuing his journey into his home.

"I'm back you guys!" Sirius shouted as he entered his house. It was empty.

His house was cold and as empty as the streets except now… now Sirius knew there was something wrong because there were meant to be people in his house. He looked around at the web covered walls and the light mist that curled around his feet but he didn't see a single person. Sirius frowned deeply and walked further in, dropping the bag of candy on the hallway floor.

Sirius glanced at 'blood' splattered walls and saw the portraits were all vacant—even they were gone. He couldn't hear them muttering or bitching about something. Actually, he didn't hear anything in his home.

"Black!"

Sirius felt as though his heart would leave his chest at any moment as he whirled around to hear the first human voice that he'd heard since… how long had he'd been gone? Sirius didn't know what time it was but he did know that when he had left it was still sunlight. But walking back to the cab, it was dark and cold and…

"Snape? Where is everyone?" Sirius demanded, narrowing his eyes at the greasy git. The man had on some tight fitting black pants and an open white shirt with puffy sleeves. No one wanted to see his skinny body… well, Remus might but that didn't mean that Sirius should be subjected to such a sight. In his hands were the bags that Sirius had just dropped but how had Snape picked that up? How had he gotten behind him?

"Black, you've been out for nearly two hours picking up candy and you think you have the right to demand an answer from me!? Merlin, Black, was it too much to ask that you keep it in your pants just for a few moments—did you bend the cashier over?" Snape hissed as he pushed pass Sirius and stomped into the living room where the party was supposed to be.

Sirius shook his head and traveled behind the man, questions playing on the end of his tongue and anger forcing his hands into tight fist. He wanted to hit the hothead of a bastard but the man stomped through the door to his living room and, suddenly, he was in the full swing of his very loud Halloween party.

Music was playing, laughter was echoing, chatter was making. Sirius blinked at the fifty or so people standing in the magically enlarged room. They were in various costumes, in various states of conversation or good ole fun.

He could see Lily (a princess) twirling Harry (a Musketeer) around to the music while James (prince) was speaking animatedly to Remus (pirate). Maximus Greengrass had his little Daphne playing with a shy Neville who were both dressed as bumblebees. There were many more people there with their children and spouses all in costumes. He saw Snape pouring the candy, one bag at a time into the large pumpkin that they'd soon be placing near the door.

"Black, I must admit that your idea for a modern muggle themed Hallows' Eve party was quite ingenious," an aristocratic voice behind him spoke. Sirius turned around to see Malfoy grinning at him with half a mask on. It was white and oddly familiar but Sirius didn't want to get sucked into a conversation with the Slytherin Prince, he'd rather get lost in the party and not who had gotten an invite. How he hated his brother at times.

After dancing for quite a while, Sirius had yet to look at a clock, he found himself with the undeniable urge to urinate. Sirius let out a laugh as Regulus said something then turned away from the group he had found himself in to go to the bathroom upstairs. He stepped into the long hallway of the first floor, freezing as the silence began to echo in his ears.

A frown formed on his face as he stared both ways of his hallway. It seemed so much longer—so much darker and yet he could see everything. Sirius shook his head as strange thoughts started to take place and turned around to enter the bathroom but he bumped into somebody.

"Oh Merlin, I'm…" Sirius half apology caught in his throat as he saw himself. Sirius blinked and watched as his clone blinked at the same time. Other Sirius let out a gasp and took several steps back, his lips moving and his eyes so frantic.

"No, NO! I—you aren't me. I'm me. Snape is doing this—Snape stop it! I have to stop this!" Other Sirius shouted hysterically before taking off at a run, pushing Sirius out of the way. Sirius immediately took chase with questions on his mind.

"Hey, wait up!" Other Sirius dashed down the stairs and the real Sirius followed but he was stopped as he nearly collided into Lily. The redhead blinked several times, her delicate hands clutching onto his arms as she steadied herself carefully. As she focused on his face a glare formed.

"Sirius, where have you been?!" Lily demanded. Sirius was not really concerned about his whereabouts seeing as how he had just seen himself running about his house. For some reason he just knew that this had nothing to do with polyjuice potion or anything of the sort. There was something very, very wrong.

"I only went to the bathroom for a second," Sirius answered, looking over her head to see where Other Sirius had gone. Lily huffed and flicked her hair over her shoulder, nearly over tipping the tiara she wore.

"A second? Try an hour, Black! The guys are looking for you up in the attic," Lily huffed before whirling on her glass heel and striding out of the room in a stalk that was a bit similar to one Severus Snape. Sirius shook his head and let out a deep sigh through his nose.

He had to calm down and think. Obviously he was having a small mental breakdown and that's why time seemed to be escaping him and that's why he thought he saw himself but he didn't because that was insane and insanity was not something that coincided with those of the Black family.

Taking another deep breath, Sirius began to go up to the attic.

"Hello Black, do you find yourself prepared?" Severus inquired behind him. Once again Sirius found himself whirling around, his heart in his chest as he turned to be face to face with one Severus Snape. The man stood there with a small smirk on his face but he didn't say anything as he stepped around Sirius and finished their journey to the attic.

Up the stairs he saw all of the men that had been invited simply sitting down in a full circle. Sirius was confused, what the Hell were they doing? He shook his head at whatever stupidity that was happening and walked over to one of the windows. He had not been in the attic for a very long time. Actually—

"What the Hell…?" Sirius squinted at the night sky only… only it wasn't night. There was nothing in the sky. Nothing but a dark canvas. The stars, clouds, moon—it was all gone. It was as if they had never existed. Even in the magical community, this was not possible. Sirius felt his panic well up in his chest as he pressed his face to the glass and stared up at the not-night sky. Where were they? Where—?

"Black, are you feeling well?"

Sirius jumped away from the cold hand and pressed himself against the glass window, not feeling anything from it. He didn't feel the cool glass that he would usually have felt nor had he felt the warm breath of someone behind him and yet here he was—Severus Snape. He was standing there, his face twisted in concern but he knew that it was wrong. It was wrong. Everything was so, so wrong!

"Snape, what is going on? The sky, there's no stars. And time is jumping around and… and…" The sound of an automobile caught Sirius' attention. He turned back around and saw a cab. A man climbed out and there he was. There was Sirius, standing there and looking up at the house. The animagus let out a gasp—he had to warn himself to not come in the house. There was something horribly wrong about this house at the moment and he had to tell him, stop him from coming in!

He whirled around to face the empty attic but he didn't allow that to bother him this time. He rushed from the attic and to the stairs, pounding down them swiftly. He didn't know why anything was happening or who was doing it but he knew that if he could warn the Sirius outside and stop him from coming in then everything would stop. Everything would be fine once more!

He glanced over his shoulder but then ran right into somebody. To his surprise he saw himself but it couldn't be the one from outside or him because he was here and the one outside was still looking up at the house or at least just going to the stairs. He should warn this Sirius but he stopped.

"No, NO! I—you aren't me. I'm me." He looked over this Sirius' shoulder and froze as he saw Snape. Snape was leaning against the wall, looking at them—at him with that damn smirk on his face. Realization hit him hard in the stomach.

"Snape is doing this—Snape stop it! I have to stop this!" He just had to. He had to stop Snape from doing all of these horrible things so he pushed past the fake Sirius and dashed down the hall and down the stairs. He heard the other Sirius shout for him but ignored it. He didn't have time to explain what was going on, he just had to go!

Sirius opened the door and ran into the open air, finding that once he had started, he couldn't stop running. He saw himself walking up the stairs, a slightly confused frown on his face and he reached out his hands. He would push himself down the damn stairs if he had to but he wasn't strong enough. He simply hit his broad shoulder and caused this Sirius to stumble.

Sirius looked back as his legs continued to run and saw Sirius staring directly at him and hope rose in his chest. But it soon crumbled as he simply shrugged it off and continued into the damned house. Right into Snape's trap.

Suddenly Sirius wasn't running anymore. He was simply standing in the middle of the asphalt, sweat dripping from all over his body. He looked over his shoulder as a bright light shone and then he felt the pain of the cab hitting his body.

(**)

"Sirius, Sirius!"

"AHHH!" Sirius sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding and his chest rapidly falling and rising. Tears of fear dripped down his face as he looked all around his bedroom bathed in the setting sun and at his best friend, James Potter. He grabbed the man and pulled him close to his body, enjoying the warmth and realness of his fellow Marauder.

"Hey, hey… what's wrong Padfoot?" James asked as he pulled away from the hug. Sirius shook his head and took in a few more breaths before gaining control of his body's functions.

"I just had the worst nightmare!" Sirius sighed, throwing off his sweat drenched blanket. James let out a chuckle.

"It can't be any worse than having to live with Snape of all people and knowing he's sharing a bed with your best mate," James reminded him. Sirius let out his own laugh and carefully pulled out his outfit of the evening for the party even though his nightmares were still pushing at the forefront of his mind. He shook his head.

It was only a dream after all and glanced out the window to prove to himself that it had all been a nightmare. Immediately his heart froze and his eyes widened. He stumbled over to the window and he gazed at the cloudless, moonless, star-less, sunless, sky-less sky. No, no, no! This was not happening!

"Oh Sirius… I was wondering…" James started. Sirius felt his mouth run dry because that was not James' voice any longer. He slowly turned around and, with horror stricken eyes, watched as the unruly black haired lengthened, thick body shrink, and the tan skin paled. The friendly mouth thinned and turned into a cruel smile while warm brown eyes became cold, calculating and dark.

"Could you guy and buy some candy? It's hardly enough to fill the big pumpkin."

Sirius Black's horrified screams could be heard from miles around.

(**)

The End

Poor, poor Black—I wonder when it will all end for him? Oh well, perhaps he'll learn the valuable lesson of not pushing those that should not be shoved.


	3. Perfect ft Petunia Evans

Summary: Perfect is so overrated

AU: no magic

Words: 1,361

Rating: PG

(**)

Lily is so beautiful. Lily is so special. Lily is so perfect.

Petunia was so tired of her sister being the perfect, gifted, beautiful one. It wasn't fair that their parents loved Lily so much more than her. Just because Petunia took her mother's plain brown hair, her father's brown eyes with their great grandmother's long face and skinny body did not mean that she was ugly… unlike Lily.

Lily with her long red hair that resembled their father's with their mother's beautiful green eyes and their grandmother's pretty face and voluptuous body.

Petunia hated Lily. It was Lily that had the perfect test scores while Petunia had to struggle to maintain a B average. It was Lily that got all of their parents love when she showed enough talent to get into the most prestigious art school in the world while Petunia had to go to the worse school in the neighborhood because all of the money went to Lily and her schooling. It was Lily with the perfect, rich boyfriend that treated her good while Petunia was stuck with the only person that would put up with her and he slapped her around on a near to daily basis.

Why was it always Lily that got everything she wanted while Petunia was pushed to the side and ignored?

"Hey, Petunia? Can you give me a hand?" Lily called out. Petunia glared at the direction the voice came from but she turned on her heel and started to go inside. She already knew that if she didn't help her, she'd softly complain about having to do something all on her own and thusly the blame would be shouldered onto Petunia. Her parents would berate her and call her lazy even though she had a job so that she could pay for better supplies.

It wasn't right and she wouldn't put up with it any longer! Petunia was going to give Lily what was coming to her and she would enjoy the outcome. That perfect bitch was going to get what was coming to her.

(**)

Lily let out a yawn as she padded around her empty house. Everyone had gone off to buy Petunia's stuff for school and she hadn't wanted to go. It wasn't like it would be any different than last year so she'd stay home. It was the same. Petunia would look at something that was way over her expenses from her dead end job and ask their parents to put some money into her things but they'd both point out that Lily's schooling was pulling their cash then in which Lily would put on some light tears and apologize for going to an expensive school.

Lily smiled a tiny bit to herself, she wasn't heartless in saying that she felt bad for Petunia but she did know that her sister had no right to complain. It wasn't like she was going to a high end school. Lily shook her head and slowly made her way to the basement where she'd paint the day away. It was her paintings that got her into Hogwarts so she wouldn't allow herself to slip in the few days until school started. The kid down the street got in early and he was super talented if not—

"AIIIIIEEEE!" Lily's eyes shot open as she gazed upon the dead body that hung from the ceiling and under the hanging light. Shadows pulled down his face and elongated his body. He moaned at her and its dead arms reached out to grab onto her.

Lily fell to her knees and pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, kicking her legs wildly as the monster swung slowly across the ceiling. A swing later and it fell with a dusty thump and began to crawl towards her, moaning as it went.

"Lily…!" it groaned as it came closer. Lily let out more shrieks and she wished her mother, father, sister were there to help her. The cold, dead man latched onto her ankle and pulled her close. Cold breath that smelled of rotting leaves and maggots filled her nostrils. The new screams she had gotten ready to give were stuck in her throat as the sunken, empty sockets stared out at her and she stared into them.

Then it was so dark.

(**)

"Where's Lily?" Rose stepped into the kitchen after looking in the girl's room and calling out her name several times. Petunia shrugged her shoulders and quickly carried her bags into the house with very little help from her father as the man heard that his precious Lily wasn't answering Rose's calls.

"Petunia, check down in the basement while I look down the street at that kid's place to see if she went down there," Henry ordered of his oldest daughter. Petunia dropped her bags with a thud and stomped her foot.

"But dad, I'm putting away all of my stuff!" Petunia whined. She was just upset at seeing her father in such a panic.

She had gotten lost on her way home from school once and they hadn't gone looking for her. They had assumed she was 'sulking' in her room even though none of them had seen her come into the house. It turned out she gotten off her bus at the wrong stop and ended up in a bad neighborhood. It had taken her two hours to find her way home. Two hours where no one looked for her and yet Lily was probably just down the street and they were sending out the search hounds.

"It's not fair!" Petunia shouted, meaning the incident rather than what was happening at the moment.

"Your sister might be in trouble—stop being so selfish!" Henry bellowed, whirling on her with his hand up as if to strike her. Petunia flinched and felt tears coming to her eyes. She let out a wet huff and started towards the basement, flicking on the light before continuing on her way.

She stomped down the stairs and looked around the lit basement, instantly spotting the vivid red hair that only her sister owned. The girl was curled into a corner, rocking back and forth with her perfect pink lips moving with whispered words that Petunia could not decipher.

"Lily… what are you doing?" Petunia demanded, stomping over to her sister. Lily did not answer her. Instead she continued to stare straight ahead with her large green eyes, dead of all light.

Petunia frowned and followed her line of sight and saw a dressed skeleton for their soon to be coming Halloween party. Petunia had just finished dressing it and adding the theatrics so that she wouldn't be asked later. She was a great artist too if only their parents cared. The thing looked real enough to glance again in a panic. It seemed as though Lily had done a little more with her overactive imagination.

"Dead man… dead man. Kill me… he kill me. It's so dark. He kill me. He wants to… dead man…" Lily whimpered over and over. Petunia looked at the grinning 'dead man' and back to her sister with her prefect face blotched with red and her green eyes swollen with tears and ugly with panic. Her red hair was in tangles and she didn't look nearly so perfect.

Petunia went back up the stairs, slowly so as to not disturb her sister more. As she came to the top, she saw her mother wringing her hands and pacing. She paused and cleared her throat. Rose didn't turn around at all.

"Mom… I…" Petunia started but she was cut off by Rose holding up her hand.

"I don't care about anything but Lily, have you found her!?" Rose demanded. Petunia glanced back at the lit basement where her sister sat rocking like a lunatic in her ugly insanity. Then she grinned and flicked off the lights and closed the door behind her.

"Not at all."

(**)

The End

Now that wasn't very nice of her! Sister against sister but, in the end, Lily got what was coming to her… right?


	4. Forests ft Peter Pettigrew

Summary: Nighttime + Forest + Pettigrew= need I say more?

Rating: Low R

Words: 1,241

(**)

Peter walked through the dark forest, using the bright moonlight to guide his path. His watery blue eyes looked around him carefully, flinching as the forests' noises hummed around him. It wasn't that he was scared of this forest; no he was just slightly anxious. Even though he was a wizard, he knew these trees were all muggle so he had nothing to fear.

"Peter…!"

The blond whirled around, his thin yellow hair was practically racing to keep up with his movements as he nervously looked for the source of his name. All he could hear was the whistling wind, the sound of owls, bugs and the few snapping branches probably made from small forest critters. He released a small breath and urged himself to relax. There was nothing to fear this Halloween night except for his subconscious.

Not that his mind shouldn't be angry at him. It wasn't every day that he did something that caused his skin to crawl and his hatred to turn inward as he slowly realized what he had done. It wasn't right that he betrayed the Marauders' trust. It wasn't right that that family had to die or that he became a turncoat.

Peter jumped as the forest suddenly came alive with noises that echoed and vibrated the very mossy floor. He let out a whimper and flinched as he became aware of millions of eyes staring at him. He was fairly sure that they were owl eyes but they still caused chills to race up and down his spine. Peter shook off the feeling and continued his same jumpy pace deeper into the forest.

His master had told him that a meeting was to take place in the heart of the forest. That's who he was meeting: the man he threw away all of his friendships for. Deep down inside, Peter hated himself for doing such a thing but Voldemort promised him things that no one else could give him. He wasn't just someone's sidekick—he was important. He was needed unlike in the group of Marauders who only invited him because he was already tagging along.

"Peter…!"

Once again Peter whipped around only this time he caught a flash of red. It was a ruby red that nearly glowed in the dark forest.

"W-who's there? My lord, is that you?" Peter stuttered, swallowing the saliva that had been building up in his trembling mouth. His heart began to pick up speed and sweat broke out on his blotchy skin. No one answered him and that scared him more than someone stepping from behind a tree.

Silence simply meant that he was to be tortured until he was a scream bundle of nerve or dead. He did not want either one so he stayed in that one spot. Slowly he pulled out his wand, using his left hand to hold it seeing as one of his fingers was sacrificed for the cause. He was still bleeding but the pain was hidden by a lot of numbing ointments.

"Come out! I-I know you're there!" Peter shouted, listening as the forest fell silent. The silence beat around his head much harsher than the cluster of sound that had been trying to surround him. NO, this quiet air was drowning him now and he could hardly breathe as it rushed through his ears and down his throat.

Then there was someone stepping from behind a tree. Peter felt a small shriek erupt from his throat as he gazed upon a woman with bright red hair. He knew that woman, he knew that hair and he knew that she was dead!

"L-L-Lily, what—what are you doing here!? You're dead!" Peter shouted, stumbling backwards as the woman came forward. She continued to step closer and closer to him but he was steadily moving away until common sense told him to simply turn around and run. Listening to his instincts Peter took off in a swift run.

(**)

His feet pounded against the forest floor, breaking branches and jumping over protruding roots as gracefully as he could so as to not fall. True fear flowed thicker than actual blood in his veins while his heart tried desperately to break through his chest.

"Peter…!" Lily shouted after him, her voice sliding between his sweating shoulder blades. Peter pushed himself faster, ignoring the clawing branches that pulled at his hair and scratched his face. He ignored the sharp pain in his ankle as he stepped down on a root and the fact that his lungs could not stand anymore running. His legs were on fire and he knew that he would never get away from her.

Peter would never escape the woman he helped killed—the friend that trusted him with their secrets and their safety. She was angry and revenge would be brought down on his head.

Peter looked over his shoulder to see how far back Lily was only to find his foot caught in a looped root. He tumbled and rolled across the ground, leaves and dirt streaking his entire body. His skidding stopped as his fat body slammed into a large tree's trunk. Immediately the roots wrapped around his wrist and the dirt slowly parted underneath him. Peter struggled as hard as he could. He pulled against the strong roots and kicked out at the dirt. He didn't want to die, no! Not like this.

Peter looked up and saw Lily standing above him. She stood there, her beautiful face cold and blank as her empty green eyes stared down at him. Hatred and anguish poured from her very essence and he could feel it pounding him harder into the cold dirt.

Two sharp branches reared up and pierced into his skin. His warm blood shot out and fed the ground, some hitting the beautiful nightgown Lily wore. Peter let out a shriek of pain as the branches stabbed into his skin more and more, going deeper and deeper until Peter could not tell when one pain started and when one flared harder.

"I'm sorry Lily! Please, I'm so sorry!" Peter shouted, his face red with his own blood that began to pour from between his plump lip and onto his flabby chin. He looked up at the woman with her beautiful face carved in such cold stone and he knew that he would get no mercy from her. The branches pulled themselves from his skin and both hovered on the top layer of his chest, the branches pressing hard but not hard enough to break skin.

"Please don't kill me Lily. Please. I am so sorry!" Peter whimpered, his bloody lips trembling and his legs shaking under the heavy dirt that now covered all of his lower body. At that moment Lily's face shifted into a soft smile even though her stone eyes spoke of no kindness.

"I am not sorry," she whispered.

(**)

In the dead of the night a woman drifted from the woods. Her movements were slow and deliberate as she made her way down the street to the destroyed house in the middle of the block. Her face was decidedly calm as a small smile came to her face even though she was absolutely drenched in blood. It was dry, crackling with each motion but it did not seem to bother her. She stopped in front of the collapsed house and listened to the wails of a baby.

Then she was gone.

(**)

The End

Hell hath no fury…


	5. Punished ft Severus Snape

Summary: Severus wishes to escape a punishment worse than death.

Rating: R

Words: 3,110

(**)

The sanctity of life.

It was absolute bullshit and Severus couldn't stop the scoff that left his painfully dry throat as he pressed himself against the dirty alley wall. It was because of that load of dragon dung that he was constantly on the run. After the last war, Azkaban had been completely destroyed. There was nothing left but a pile of rubble and dead bodies.

It no longer existed but there were still criminals and that was the problem. There were still those that needed to be punished but not in death. Oh no, life was valued these days. To kill the criminal would make the public no better. So they came up with a new method of punishment… a horrible new method.

Severus flinched, his slightly sharp canine bared as people walked by his secluded hiding spot. He couldn't believe what they had done or just how close they were to finishing the process on him.

It wasn't fair. Severus was a spy. He helped people—saved lives just as much as Harry Potter did, if not more! Why should he be put on trial with the other Death Eaters? Severus felt tears prickle the side of his eyes and slowly crept forward, ducking across the sidewalk and into another alleyway. He had to make it to Hogwarts or somewhere that he could be safe for even the slightest of moments.

A wind swept through his new hiding spot, coercing shivers down his naked spine and throughout his entire body. He clasped his skinny arms around his upper half, rubbing his sides in a vain attempt to create some kind of warmth on the chilly October evening. He needed clothes and he needed them more than he needed to get to his far destination.

Severus peeked from the dark space, looking up and down the street. There was only one person there and that was a burly man. He had a long trench coat on with its collar flipped up to protect his neck from the dreaded wind. A hat sat atop his head but it didn't hide the long brown locks from Severus' view. Severus licked his lips slowly and mentally prayed that whatever deity was out there would forgive him for what he was going to do. He hoped this man did not have a family.

(**)

The tall man pulled his hat further down over his head as he walked through the streets at a brisk pace. His shoulders were nearly up to his ears and his boots were probably a bit too big as they nearly slid off his feet with each step, not that it seemed to bother him. He paused for a moment and looked around, nearly jumping as he noticed a short man leaning against the glass window of a store. The leaning man gave a small smile and pushed himself off the window, swaying over to him with a greedy look upon his face.

"Hello, kind sir. My name is Roger Davenport and I own this pet shop right here. We have those new pets, come in and see!" Roger gestured to his shop. The skinnier man shook his head, his hat shadowing his face.

"No, thank you. I am simply—," the man stammered with his silky voice.

"I insist! You must see them! They are quite exquisite," Roger insisted, grabbing the skinny arm and nearly pulling the man into the store. It was a clean, simple operation but it did not have owls, kittens, and toads as one would expect from a wizarding pet store such as this. In fact the man could not even see a single dragon. However the owner pulled him further into the clean establishment until they reached a large-wide cage with about five… beings in them.

At first glance the beings appeared to be human with their faces, hair and body but…

"Are those… the Ministry Punished?" the man rasped, his voice belying the horror that curled up into his gut. Roger nodded excitedly, rubbing his hands as he stepped closer to the beings. They backed away as fast as their new, odd limbs allowed them two, their human faces showing fear and the immense pain they each felt.

"You wanna know how they do it?" Roger grinned, not looking at the man. Instead he pulled out his wand and created an opening in the cage. The animals knew better than to run by now so they simply cowered, one crying out as his silken, platinum hair was grabbed and yanked. His appendages clumsily tried to obey the yanking until he was out of the cage and curled up on the floor between Roger and the man. The hidden man let out a gasp and took a step forward, pale hand reaching out towards the cowering being.

"Yeah, he's a beauty isn't he?" Roger nearly salivated. "You see, they cut off both arms below the elbows and both legs at the knees so they can stay on all fours like they are mean to." He ran his fingers over the nearly seamless arm where the paw moved into the arm. The man felt his stomach twist but the man continued on, unaware of the man's discomfort. "Then an animal is picked out for the bastard—this one is a bunny I think. They also get their ears removed and their animal ones work like their chosen animal. It's crazy what magic can do! I mean, look at this!"

The man grabbed the criminal by the long, white ears and pulled, ignoring the scream the animal let out and instead showed the teeth. The two front teeth were elongated such as a rabbit's would be and the rest were human like but different. The pink tongue was also different, longer and paler.

"It's amazing right?" the man gushed, dropping the hair and allowing the criminal to curl up once more.

"That… is that… Malfoy?" the man whispered raggedly. Roger frowned and looked down at the curled up beast, taking a close look at the criminal's face. He studied it for a moment before nodding with a bright smile.

"Yeah, that's Lucius Malfoy alright. There's two people bidding for him at the moment but they've asked for it to be a secret. Just last week I had that crazy bitch… Bellatrix—good thing they made her a dog, bitch that she was. I believe I sold her to that nice Longbottom fellow just last week. I have a lot of Death Eaters which is what the people want. I'm supposed to have that Snape fellow but they say he escaped before they finished. He would have made great money… Dumbledore's killer and all," Roger shook his head in disappointment at not having the scum where he belonged.

"Stupefy."

The man did not have time to gasp as the red light barreled towards him and he was unconscious on the ground a second later. Severus threw the hat off his head, revealing the cat ears that flicked and moved irritably. He hated them but he hated this man more. He rushed to his old friend and fell beside the blond man scrambling with his unnatural legs to get back to the cage and away from the hurt.

"Oh Lucius… Lucius?" Severus kneeled beside the man and gazed down at his best friend. The wide gray eyes stared at him before darting around the room frantically, dead with their ignorance. Severus felt tears brim in his eyes as he reached down to the man but Lucius jerked away from him and tried to gain balance enough to rejoin his mutilated brothers and sisters. They had destroyed him, taken away his very soul and Severus refused to allow the same thing to happen to him. He would die before he allowed this happen to him.

(**)

Harry sat calmly at the head table, staring out in the dark Great Hall. In less than four hours, students would be crowding around the four tables, shouting and laughing. They would be so full of light and hope especially since this would be the first year where danger was something of the past. He felt happiness to know that this school year Voldemort would not be hanging over these children heads and no longer haunting his dreams. Every day would reveal a new happiness.

"H-help," a voice whispered. Harry whipped out his wand, whirling around to the source of the sound. To his surprise he found one Severus Snape leaning against the cold stone wall. Harry's green eyes narrowed at the man clothed only in a trench coat that was half open to reveal his naked body.

"What are you doing here Snape?" Harry spat, glaring at the man that killed the Headmaster and then had the audacity to show up at Hogwarts. He was meant to be Punished for his crimes and yet he was here, his procedure half-done judging by the animal ears and filed teeth that was revealed as the man gave him a hysterical half grin.

"Traveled by foot… it's so cold Potter. Cold… just like your eyes right now. You think I did it, do you not? You think I killed the Headmaster out of cold blood but I did not. I have always been on the side of Light and what I have done has always been at the urging of the Headmaster. Albus wanted me to kill him. He left evidence in his pensive," Severus chattered, wrapping his thin arms around his body. It had been a long journey there and he was in such pain. His heart was pounding in his chest because he knew.

Severus knew that, at any time, some Auror could spot him. They would find out where he was and take him back. His Punishment would continue and he'd be in one of those cages, being gawked at and pointed to by excited children and mocking adults. He'd be a pet, a useless beast that wouldn't even remember his own name.

"Dumbledore's office was destroyed so that 'evidence' that you have would be gone," Harry stated and folded his arms. Severus felt his face drop and he supported his weight against the stone wall. He had been running on nothing but adrenaline since he'd awaken on the cold cell floors, sweat breaking out over his body as his system attempted to merge with his new ears, organs, and teeth.

He had been so close to dying, so close to getting a truer freedom than he knew all of his life but it had been taken away from him when they used his healing potions to stop the infection and merge his body with the godless procedure. But he had escaped. He used magic in his half dead state and escaped.

"Potter, you must believe me… I am innocent," Severus found himself pleading with Harry, begging this mere slip of a man to believe something that was true but sounded false. No one would believe that he had performed a mercy killing. No one had ever listened to a word he had ever spoke but the one person that could help—the one person whose ears meant something was the one person that hated him more than he did himself.

"Snape… listen… I don't like the Punishment they do for Death Eaters and I do believe that you're innocent so I'll help you leave. They don't allow this stuff out of the UK. The States especially hate it what with their past with slavery and such. I've got a port-key you can use to get to America but from there you are on your own," Harry finally stated, his green eyes alight with sympathy.

Severus felt hope spur in his chest for the first time since his parody of a trial. His body shook with relief as he looked at the young man. Harry gave him a small, unsure smile and stepped closer with his green eyes staring at the animal ears and glancing at his open mouth to the sharp canine. Severus flattened the ears and pressed his lips together to hide his anomalies from the younger's eyes. Harry gazed at him for a moment longer before turning on his toes and walking swiftly from the Great Hall.

"Stay here while I grab the port-key," Harry ordered over his shoulder. Severus let out a sigh and stumbled forward to the Slytherin table which was closest. He fell onto the bench, laying his wet forehead into the wood.

It was comforting to smell something more than fear and antiseptics. That shopkeeper's stench was still on him, he could almost feel the man's hand on his arm guiding him to see his tortured former comrades. He could still see Lucius crawling towards his cage like some scared animal which was not far from the truth.

Tears prickled at the back of his eyes and began to slide down his cheeks and onto the wooden table. He was in such pain. He was so tired and he was scared. Merlin if he didn't want to admit that he was frightened. He was so terrified that at any moment… at any moment…

"What…?" Severus blinked and picked his head off the table as he felt a slight sting in his shoulder. With shaking, heavy hands he slowly reached to the spot and pulled at the item sticking to his skin. It was small with a tiny needle at the end of it—a dart. A muggle dart filled with…

"Sleeping potion. Sleeping… my variation," Severus slurred after a quick smell. He looked around the empty hall to see men with red robes. They stood there, their shadows stretching across the floor and towards him ominously. The leader was smiling and patting Harry Potter on the shoulder, their shit-eating grins identical.

Severus stood up and attempted to make it to the door but he fell to his knees as slumber gnawed at his mind. He needed to escape. He couldn't go back. Not back to the medical tables and the knives and the wands and the pain. So much pain that pounded on him in his potion induced sedation. He needed to leave from these evil men that thought him the evil one and yet he had never done such torture even when he was not a turncoat. His victims died with dignity.

"Nice nose on him, right mate?"

"Yeah, surprise the git can even see around that thing but we got him now. I can't believe he thought I'd listen to his lies."

"Git tried to lie? There's a shocker but he won't be saying much when they cut out that tongue. I hear they even break into the Punished minds and cut out everything except for their more basic instincts."

Severus was innocent. So innocent—they shouldn't… they shouldn't be doing this. His mind should remain his own. His body should not be touched. He was innocent. He did as he had been told and now…

"Well, you should know. I hear Bellatrix is as docile as a newborn pup!"

He was crawling towards the door, trying desperately to make it through even though he knew that he should just give up. He wanted to simply give up and curl up on the floor but he couldn't. He didn't want to be Punished.

"What does Snape weigh, like 108? That dart should have put him out—it was measured for him."

"Yeah but he's a stubborn son of a bitch. Hit him one more time."

Severus whimpered as he heard those words and felt a sting on his shoulder. Then there was darkness.

(**)

"Oh shit, he's awake!"

"How did he—my wand!"

"Gibson, Harken, and Gills are dead and Snape is on the move!"

"On the move!? He's got one fucking arm and bleeding all over the place—how the Hell did he wake up!?"

"He must have developed a kind of tolerance for the sedation potions but he's killed three doctors and he's going for the doors."

He was free. Severus was free. He had stopped them from replacing his arms. He had stopped them from damaging his brain and now he was on his way to freedom. He would not go through a fate worse than death—he would bleed to death first.

Severus' naked, bleeding body stumbled across the clean tiles and his haunted black eyes stared forward, seeing his destination. He saw the light that would lead to his freedom and all he had to do was make it there.

Even though his arm was mostly gone, muscle and bone exposed to the world as it hung limply from the numb limb. Even though his feet were bloody. Even though liquid metal dripped from between his clenched lips and his tongue no longer existed. Even though he could hardly see and his magical core throbbed with the pain of being overused… he was happy.

He stepped into the light.

(**)

The streets were filled with people, bustling to and fro on the busy streets. It was a beautiful, slightly chilly day that signified that schools would soon be open to accept new students and welcome back older students.

"Oh, mommy! I want this one! I want this kitty cat!"

There stood a young, three year old girl with her mouth. She pulled on the woman's jacket as she pointed at the cat in the front window. It was a skinny thing, with large white and black ears and dark eyes that stared at nothing with its blank ignorance. Its white paws were interrupted by a black dot on its fur.

"That young lady has a good eye! This one is a very special cat but you have to bid on him and let me tell you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Finnegan are neck to neck—55,000 galleons now!"

"I think I can start bidding but… is he safe? I hear he was a wildcat, nearly getting away twice!"

"Oh he was wild—he attacked me the first time he got out but they put him in his place. He's nothing but a meek kitty and I'm sure this young lady would love him."

The woman looked down at the black haired cat who glanced at her and for a second she saw something. There was a… a small glitch in his eyes as if he were aware of what horrible fortune had befallen him. He lifted his paw and placed it against the glass display window. He pressed hard then his eyes were blank and he was lying still once again.

"Well, Miss… are you ready to bid for Severus Snape?" The young, yellow haired woman smiled slightly and flicked it behind her perfect ear before nodding. Dumbledore's killer would make a great addition to her home.

(**)

The End

Aw, the poor man! I wonder if he would appreciate a bowl of cream. Oh, that's not very nice of me! Bad kitty… oops.


	6. Hate featuring Tom Riddle

AN: I haven't had any sleep in the past twenty four hours and I can't remember if I'm right handed or left handed. I didn't even try to match up the speech patterns or proofread—head hurts.

Summary: Tom Riddle learns that hate is a powerful thing

Rating: R

Words: 5180

(**)

Hate.

Tom was not really sure what the literal definition for hate was but he did know that it was something he felt for a lot of people. It wasn't a strong dislike or simple scorn, no—he abhorred these pathetic beings that blundered on with their lives like the fools they were. He was above each and every one of them. He was better than they were and the reason they retaliated and spat nasty words was because, deep down inside, they knew it.

"I grow bored with your barbaric behavior," Tom finally drawled as he looked at the thick boy yelling at him. He wondered if he was meant to be scared of such a boy with his low IQ, flabby face, and less than impressive vocabulary. Just because Tom was smaller than this brute, that didn't mean that he would run scared or even be hurt by his weak insults.

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Tommy!" the brute shouted, his cheeks turning an ugly purple as his anger mounted. Tom felt his anger explode at that one name and he was on his feet, the book laid forgotten on that grassy hill as he faced the bastard that dared to call him 'Tommy'. Tom pulled out his wand and had it pointed to the Gryffindor's throat before anyone could react.

"What did you call me?" Tom hissed, his words nearly coming as the language of snakes but Tom was in enough control to stop from doing such a thing. He couldn't allow anyone to know he could speak to snakes because it was his business. The Gryffindor gulped, feeling the hard wood of Tom's wand pressing harshly into his soft skin.

"Mr. Riddle!" a shrill voice shouted. Tom let out a curse and hid his wand in his robe, backing away from the Gryffindor (whose name still hadn't come to Tom) and facing the prefect who had the worse habit of tattling every little thing that happened. She was the holiest of Gryffindors in all of her golden-red hair and meddling ways. Slytherins were the worst in her eyes and it irked Tom that he had to serve detention nearly every day because she thought him the provoker in every event.

"Yes, McGonagall?" Tom sighed heavily mentally but he had a bright smile on his face to soothe the Scottish girl's ire. She looked him up and down and at the dispersing crowd that knew what a hard ass McGonagall was then at the boy that had been bullying Tom.

"What were ye and Clearwater doing!?" she demanded, her rough accent literally scrapping the inside of Tom's ears. He flinched mentally at her high level and stepped to the side to gather his belongs before facing her with an all knew calm mask on.

"Minerva, have I ever told you how much I enjoy reading a book in the warm sunlight while sitting on this healthy grass? Well, it's a pastime of mine and Clearwater just so happened to share such a pleasure. Now, if you will excuse me," Tom brushed past the prefect and back into the castle, ignoring her harpy voice yelling about something or another. He had things to do.

(**)

It was at dinner that the package arrived. It confused Tom to no end because he didn't have parents and this was his second year so none of his older friends were out and sending him anything. The fact that it had no return address on it was also vexing but Tom carried it out of the Great Hall and into his dorm all the same.

He tore it open as fast as his careful hands would allow and opened it to a necklace with a piece of paper to it. The necklace was a beautiful golden chain with a silver egg in the middle covered in green snakes. He could see some parts of the egg through the gaps of the snake. Tom smiled at the necklace and looked to the paper that had come with the package.

"Hate is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated," Tom read aloud. He frowned at the odd and untrue statement. Hatred was strength, it motivated people to act. Hatred was a fire that burned everything to the grown without difficulty. Hate was power.

(**)

There comes a time in someone's life when an event is happening and their emotions are flaring dangerously. In this event there are a set of words that come to mind and that slip past vocal cords and they simply feel right.

This moment—event—was happening to Tom right now as he stood toe to toe with the fifth year prefect that was accusing him of something he actually hadn't done. He was angry, shocked, dismayed, and a bit saddened that anyone would think that he had desecrated a classroom as the destroyed Transfiguration room showed.

"I didn't do it," Tom insisted, folding his arms.

"Yes you did!" McGonagall's speech went off as her emotions rose to an all high and was drowned out by her thick accent. He looked to the Headmaster who did not seem to support Tom in anyway. The old man was actually nodding with Minerva's words. It was then that Tom said the thing that just felt right.

"**I hate you!"** he hissed in the native language to snakes, staring at the girl. It did not come out as loud if he had said it in English but it was enough for it to reach the ears of the prefect. She stared at him for a moment, her words cutting off as if sliced with a knife and her eyes becoming a bit glazed. He glared hot fire into her before turning his attention to the Headmaster and awaited his impending punishment.

(**)

Minerva walked silently through the halls of Hogwarts, doing a quick round before she forced herself to sleep. She had been feeling weird ever since that moment with Riddle. She wouldn't put it past the Slytherin to have cursed her or something as horrible but the young Headmaster wouldn't allow such a thing to happen to one of his students especially in front of him.

However the feeling of being watched followed her everywhere. Tom had said something to her—hissed it in a deadly tone—and then there was the feeling of being dunked into freezing cold water that drenched her all the way to her soul. For the rest of the day that feeling prickled all over her skin and she knew that it was waiting.

Minerva did not know what it was waiting for but she knew that this thing was waiting for something. As she turned away from her neighboring prefect from Ravenclaw and down an empty, dark hallway Minerva felt a sense of panic.

It was the kind of panic that was raw and pure—something that caused her heart to race and a scream to be clawing at the back of her throat before she could even understand as to why she was frightened.

A pair of red eyes appeared in front of her and pain rained down on her for unknown reasons, attacking her very nerves. Minerva let out chocked gasps, trying to let out the scream but it was stuck inside of her body. She fell onto her back and weakly, through the horrible pain, she attempted to push herself away from the approaching beast. Rows of yellow-white teeth grinned at her and then she knew no more.

(**)

They were having an emergency assembly and Tom honestly did not care. He hadn't slept well after his unfair detention and having to deal with cleaning up the disgusting room without magic. It was horrible and really, he didn't give an owl's beak about what the old man looked so grim about. A nudge to his side brought him from his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder to see Eileen. The girl's pale face was even paler and she looked extremely worried.

"Tom, I already know that you didn't hear what Dumbledore said but would you like me to tell you anyway?" Eileen smiled softly as she walked in pace with the slightly taller second year Slytherin. She pulled her currently long hair over her shoulders and began to set in a sturdy braid.

"No," Tom said shortly though he continued to listen to his friend. He liked Eileen. They were the same age and, although she wasn't exactly book smart, she was practically the definition of common sense even in her young age. She was brilliant at potions, able to make her own formulas and stay at the top of her class and, to Tom, she was very pretty. She hardly blinked at his negative response and started to speak anyhow.

"That prefect that got you in trouble yesterday morning is missing. No one has seen her since late last night," Eileen summed up the entire assembly in a matter of seconds. Tom vaguely remembered Dumbledore speaking for twenty minutes in total. He let out a sigh because he didn't really care too much about it. If it were up to him, McGonagall would be in a dirty ditch somewhere.

"Who saw her last?" Tom asked, trying to humor his best friend. Eileen smiled at him, her pale face lighting up prettily. She knew he didn't care but it made her happy that someone wanted to listen to her.

"Victor Chang—the Ravenclaw prefect—said he saw her during their rounds before they separated," Eileen answered immediately.

"Eileen do you ever control that tongue of yours?" a voice interjected snootily. Tom glared immediately, his anger rising as Eileen's face stopped shining and her words tapered off.

He looked over her shoulder and the girl turned at the same time to see Abraxas Malfoy walking up behind her there. He was a fourth year Slytherin with the 'purest of blood' and the richest of families. Tom didn't particularly care about his existence then again he usually wasn't in his seeing vicinity.

"Leave her alone Malfoy," Tom ordered hotly before the blond could continue to say anything. The cold gray eyes darted to Tom and he held his ground even though he knew what kind of connections Malfoy held. He didn't care because the man was a bastard and rude to his Eileen.

"And who are you to tell me what to do? Eileen is probably to be my betrothed as a last resort anyhow," Abraxas smirked. Tom's teeth were audible as they rubbed against one another. He hated Abraxas because he knew how true his words were. There was a small chance that his current union wouldn't hold and they would go onto Eileen as a backup plan. Tom hated the thought that Eileen would be in the home of this prat.

"I would marry a House Elf before I willingly came within throwing range of you or your bed," Eileen practically spat in her slightly headstrong glory. She tilted her head enough until she was glaring holes into the perfect Malfoy face.

Abraxas glared and, before she could step away, grabbed Eileen by the base of her long braid. He yanked her head back roughly, displaying her pale throat and causing her to drop her books in her effort of clasping her hand over his.

Tom didn't blink before he pulled his wand out and narrowed his eyes at the blond. He would hex this bastard across the room and watched as he screamed in pain and begged for mercy. No one was to hurt his friends!

"Aw, the ugly wench has a knight in shining armor isn't that sweet?" the blond cooed, bringing his lips close to the second year's ear. Eileen pressed her lips together and tried her hardest to not whimper in pain as his grip tightened.

"L-let go of my hair," she demanded though her dark eyes darted to her friend, silently begging him to make the blond leave her alone. At that moment Tom had that feeling bubble into his gut. It was the same feeling of anger he felt at McGonagall and the words were pushed past his lips.

"**I hate you**!" he hissed nastily. The gray eyes glazed over and his hand released Eileen's hair. Immediately the girl rushed over to Tom, standing by his side with a relieved expression. They stood there for several seconds, none of them moving until Malfoy shook his head and walked off without saying a word to either of them.

"What just happened…?" Eileen rubbed at her sore scalp. She put up a hand before Tom could say anything on his lack of knowing, "I don't even care. Just remind me to dose him with that new poison I made… lets go back to our dorms."

Tom smiled, that was another reason he liked Eileen Prince. She was frightfully wicked.

(**)

Abraxas glanced over his shoulder for the umpteenth time. He could not shake the feeling of being watched. He could sense that someone was watching him and, instead of irritating him, it scared him. Whatever was watching him… it wanted to hurt him. He knew that this thing wanted his blood and that it would succeed at whatever cause.

With these thoughts rushing through his mind, Abraxas ran into his bedroom. The threw up as many wards as he knew even though there were natural ones that would make sure that no one entered but now he placed a two foot bubble around his door.

Then Abraxas backed away, eyes trained solely on the strong, magically enforced wooden door.

There, it was there! It pushed against his door lightly, teasing him with its abilities to get so close. He could hear it scratching its long nails against it and whispering out to him. He did not know what it spoke of but he knew that it was taunting him beyond his door.

He knew that it spoke of breaking him viciously without any remorse and definitely without mercy. It would tear his muscles from his very bones as easily as it would bite down on his still beating heart and Abraxas knew this.

Fervent prayers tumbled out of his lips like a flowing river and the shaking Slytherin stumbled backwards onto his bed, the curtains naturally drawn around him once he settled. For a moment he found refuge on his large bed. The presence of his attacker disappeared and the panic that set his nerves aflame disappeared then came back stronger before only know he sound could not leave his mouth.

Pale, thin lips stretched up in a grotesque smile and long, spider thin fingers grasped his neck in a vice grip. Pain beyond anything he knew crashed against his body as waves against a shore. It felt as if something hot and sharp was being forced down his throat and into his insides. It thrashed inside of him, being sure to burn and stab everything in its path.

Tears fell down his pale face and then Abraxas Malfoy knew no more.

(**)

Another assembly and, as a weird but totally unrelated coincidence, it was another thirty minutes of Tom's life that he would never get back. The Slytherin sighed as he blocked out any and everything the old man spoke of and buried his nose in his Charms book. They had a test two days from now and he wanted to make sure that he had everything memorized… that and he just didn't want to hear the old man blabbering on.

"Tom, another student is missing—this time from our own House. That insufferable, arrogant horror of a man is now gone although I almost feel back for thinking good riddance," Eileen started as soon as they were alone in the corridors.

Tom let out a sigh as he looked at his year mate. He mentally noted that she should honestly be very happy that he liked her because otherwise he would have hexed her a long time ago. Then again he knew that she had ways of poisoning him very discreetly so that might be another reason as to why he never drew his wand on her.

"You mean Abraxas is gone?" Tom tilted his head. It was kind of strange that the blond was suddenly missing especially after last night but he would be paranoid to think the two were connected.

"Yes, a couple people said they saw him rush to his rooms and I'm sure you felt the sudden spike in magic when he tossed every warding spell on his door," Eileen said absently, dragging her fingers through her now short hair.

Tom vaguely wondered if her hair was short because the experiment failed or if she had cut it after Abraxas manhandled her. Tom sneered, gently caressing his necklace with one finger; he hoped the bastard died.

(**)

"I did NOT do it!" Tom shouted, his face flushed red as he sat across from the Headmaster. He looked around the office, seeing Slughorn, Eileen, and Henry Potter. He didn't know the Gryffindor very well but he figured that the boy was a lying bastard because he was blaming his potion malfunction on Tom or Eileen!

"Mr. Riddle, please calm down. Mr. Potter here has told me that he saw you drop something in their cauldron and because of that, the potion could have permanently harmed Ms. Longbottom," Dumbledore said patiently. Tom silently fumed, looking over at his friend. Her face was a blank slate, cold as ice and nearly as white.

"Tom, I do not believe it was you as I have told the Headmaster twice," Slughorn began, his mustache moving with each word. Tom glanced over his shoulder at the Potions Master and raised a brow. Usually the Professor would only go for the person with either the most potential or the deeper pockets which would be Potter seeing as he had one of the richest families in the Wizarding world.

"The potion was in a delicate stage and the ingredient that was added had to be added in the right amount at the right time. Only a prodigy in potions would know when to add it to have a 'humorous' effect and yet not do permanent damage," Slughorn continued in a worse direction as he shoved the blame on the innocent Prince. Tom's eyes widened slightly and he looked to his friend who was subtly starting to shake.

"She didn't do anything either. Potter is a completely incompetent fool in the Potions lab. He was probably flirting instead of brewing and caused the malfunction himself. Like every Gryffindor with a mouth he blamed a Slytherin," Tom summed up, pulling his anger back. Henry folded his arms and pouted like the spoiled brat he was. He started to speak but Dumbledore cut him off with a held up hand and hard look.

"Ms. Prince, you are to spend a week in detention and two days without classes as an in-school suspension. I'm sorry Mr. Riddle but I trust my students not to lie and Professor Slughorn has a point. Ms. Prince is a brilliant potions student and evidence says that she has done it now—."

"**I HATE you! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!" **Tom suddenly burst, jumping from his chair and slamming his fist on the desk before him. He leaned close to Dumbledore so the man could see the true hate boiling in his blood and threw the same glare over his shoulder at Slughorn because the man would take a bribe for anything—he was a disgusting bastard but it was Dumbledore that received most of his hate. He hated this old fool for always siding with the Gryffindors, for never listening, for never believing…

Tom grabbed Eileen's hand and pulled her from the office, storming away.

(**)

"Do you think I was too harsh on the boy?" Albus sighed into his glass. He was not a man for drinking but he was also not a man for ignoring his instinct and something about sitting side by side with Horace simply felt right. The thickening man let out a warm chuckle and placed his warm hand on Albus' shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"No, Albus of course not! We both know that if we want to stop Tom from going down the wrong road and leading anyone in his touching range with him that we have to be firm with both him and his accomplices. Eileen Prince is not a dull girl but, beyond Potions, she's a lost lamb," Horace reminded him. Albus nodded numbly before shrugging his shoulder. He rolled his head around bit too, twitching a bit.

"Albus, what are you doing?" Horace inquired. The merriment that he had been pushing through to reflect on his face melted away as he worried for his dear friend.

"I… it is quite odd Horace my friend, I feel as though there is…"

"Something—and not someone—watching and waiting…"

The two men looked at each other and then paused because they could see it. They could see the thing that had haunted tem during the day. It stood behind the others shoulder, smiling patiently with its bright red snake like eyes gazing past their eyes and right into their soul. The panic that would have rushed up into their throats was drowned by the immense pain shot right into their very cores. The creature winked one of its glowing eyes and Albus and Horace knew no more.

(**)

"Tom, I think I've figured it out," Eileen suddenly said. Tom looked up from his Defense homework and to his friend.

"Figured what out?"

"Well, the disappearances. Okay, first it was McGonagall, then Malfoy, and now _Dumbledore and Slughorn_ are missing too," Eileen held up her three fingers. Tom shifted until he was completely facing her, his hand absently going to his necklace and playing with the snake covered egg. It felt so warm under his touch. "Now, what do they all have in common?"

"I don't know… they're all older?" Tom shrugged. Eileen shook her head with a smile. She looked slightly insane if the glimmer in her eye was anything to go by.

"No! They all made someone very angry in that order and on the day they disappeared."

"Who?"

"You, you dunderhead! Minerva blamed you for the vandalized room, Abraxas hurt me, Slughorn took a bribe that got us in trouble and Dumbledore sided with the Gryffindors once again—you are the thing linking them together."

"Eileen… you think I've been hurting people?" Tom was slightly hurt. This was Eileen, his best friend in Hogwarts and yet she thought he would hurt someone? He didn't want to be seen as the big, bad Slytherin who had a sick obsession with Darkness. He just wanted to graduate at the top of his class and make a name for himself.

"What? No! Of course not, you've got a temper but you're not a killer or anything. My conclusion is true though. I may not be as smart as you but I piece together puzzles naturally," Eileen folded her arms over her chest defensively. That was the end of the conversation; Tom closed his book and placed it under his arm.

"I'm going to bed," Tom stated, standing up. Eileen stood with him and placed a hand on his shoulder, her facial expression obviously remorseful.

"Please, Tom… I didn't mean any harm," she insisted.

"I know you didn't Eileen so let's just drop it," he urged. Tom knew that she was simply trying to help but it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. If they did then it would make her words true.

"But Tom, we have to find out why every time you get angry someone goes missing. Obviously something is doing this—maybe some magical creature or a dark spell," Eileen walked by his side. Tom gritted his teeth, his anger rising.

"Eileen, drop it," he said.

"Tom, something is wrong! We can't 'drop it' because this is serious! Tom, don't keep walking—look at me!" Eileen grabbed the boy's arm, spinning him around with all of her strength. Tom glared at her, his anger rising to levels he felt were becoming a little natural these past few days.

"Eileen leave it alone!" he bellowed, snatching his arm away and just stopping himself from hitting her across the face.

"Tom NO! I will NOT leave it alone. People are disappearing because of something involving you and we have to figure it out so no one else gets hurt!" she shouted back. At that moment his throat itched and the familiar feeling of saying the right thing bubbled inside except this time it was not the right thing to say. This time he knew that—

"**I hate you!" **he spat out in a snake's native tongue. A sense of dread filled him for that brief moment before it disappeared and he stomped away.

(**)

Eileen sighed as she walked alone in the halls of Hogwarts. It hadn't been too hard to slip out and avoid the current caretaker although she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. With a sigh she pushed the thought to the back of her head because there were more pressing matters at hand.

She messed up bad with Tom even if they both knew that he hadn't meant what he said…

"Oh no…" she whimpered low under his breath as the wheels clicked and connected. She turned on her school shoe heel and dashed back to the Slytherin Common Room—she had to hurry!

(**)

"Tom! TOM!" Eileen shrieked as she pounded on his door. She looked over her shoulder wildly and she saw it. There it was. It was standing down the hall, its face nearly happy as it stared at her. A long, forked tongue flicked between nearly nonexistent lips.

"Tom PLEASE!" Eileen begged as the thing took a step forward. It made odd noises that she was sure promised her a painful and drawn out death. This thing would love to torture her and it told her this. It would enjoy her beating heart in its hand, her blood on its skin, and her scream in its ears. It reached its spindly fingers out to grab her but she fell into darkness right as the sharp, yellow nails grazed a strand of hair.

"Tom, oh thank you, thank you!" Eileen sobbed as she fell into her friend. Tom's arms came around her and practically dragged her into his room, absently closing the door without his wand. He assisted Eileen to a chair and watched as she shook, her words coming out jumbled and blurred.

"Eileen… what has happened?" Tom asked, leaning forward until their eyes were lined up. Eileen shook for several more moments before swallowing hard and grasping his hands.

"Tom, I know what's making them disappear and… and I'm going to be gone too—it's going to get me. I came to tell you so you'd stop it," Eileen sobbed, tears pouring down her face. She was going to die. Oh God it was going to kill her and nothing could stop it. No one would be able to help her, not even the one that set it loose.

"Eileen I already told you that I don't have anything to do with this but if you do have a theory… I'm willing to listen. Clean yourself up though, you're a complete mess," Tom urged. Eileen bit hard into her lip, scared of being alone.

"I'll be right out here," Tom said patiently.

(**)

It was the mistake. Eileen fell to the ground in her effort to get away from the thing. It had been waiting for her to be alone and now she gave it the perfect moment. She clawed at the ground under her, scrambling backwards even as it slowly came forward. It had nothing to rush—it knew that it had one and it would kill her. She lost. She was to join the others in their shallow graves and broken bodies.

A strangled cry ripped itself from her throat as the creature leaned down and pressed its fingers through her chest, forcing her body to erupt with pain. Her lips moved silently and the creature flicked its wrist and then Eileen Prince knew no more.

(**)

The bathroom door burst open with a shock of magic as Tom rushed through the opening. He looked around the empty room and that same sense of dread filled Tom except it was slowly turning into the familiar simmer of anger. Eileen was gone like the others and it was his fault. Tom knew it was his fault. Eileen knew that he was somehow causing the disappearances and now he caused her to disappear.

"You're a monster," he glared at himself in the large mirror.

"**I HATE YOU! You're the monster here, the dark Slytherin they all thought. I HATE YOU!" **he hissed at his reflection over and over until the tears that were starting to run down his face clogged his words too much. Tom fell to his knees and placed his heavy head in his hands, sorrow drowning out his fury. Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to tell Eileen that he hated… that he hated…

"Oh no…" Tom whispered, eyes going wide as realization suddenly crashed into him. He jumped to his feet and yanked off his necklace at the same time. This was the thing that was killing everyone he hated and he just said he hated himself. He had to destroy it—now before it got him too!

Tom stopped thinking as he felt panic slam into his brain. Every warning alarm told him that he was in danger. Whirling around he saw it. This was the thing that was killing those that he hated, this was the thing that was now after him. It was tall and shrouded in a dark cloak. Its face and hands were bone white while his teeth were as sharp as daggers and slightly yellow. Red eyes, slit like nose, and the lack of ears made up its horrifying, inhuman face.

"I… I didn't mean it. I don't hate me," he stammered, immediately knowing that it was coming to kill him. He backed away, tripping over the very air in the room in his effort to get away from the thing. It shook its head sadly though the smile spoke of no sadness.

"**When will you mortals learn… hate always turn inwards," **it purred out the snake language. The thing lunged with the speed of a cobra, its fingers like fire on his skin. He could feel his skin literally boiling as the beast caressed each part. Howls of pain forced its way through his vocal cords but he knew that no one would save him, no one would stop it and that he… he was burning in his own hate.

(**)

The End


	7. Shouldn't have ft Tobias Snape

Summary: Tobias shouldn't have done that.

Words: 2,772

Rating: low R

(**)

She had done it again! Even after the last lesson he had given to her and she dared disrespect him and his home by doing it again. She was an ungrateful bitch that used up all his money on that ugly brat and herself. She couldn't do a single thing right and then she had the audacity to be a freak in his home!? She had the balls to disobey his rule and law?

Tobias narrowed his dark eyes and pulled back his hand high over his shoulder. Eileen let out a scream as his work toughened hand created a whistle in the wind before striking her across the face. Her thin body slammed into the ground with the force of his slap, blood pouring from her already swollen mouth. Her dark blue eyes looked up at him, fear widening them on her deathly pale face.

"Pl-please Tobias! I didn't mean to but… but it was faster and you were home so early," Eileen whimpered, staring up at her husband. Tobias pushed his greasy black hair from his eyes so that he could see it when the bitch learned her lesson. Tobias stooped down slightly and gripped her soft skinny arm hard enough to immediately create finger sized bruises as he pulled her to her feet. Eileen whimpered and held as still as she could in his grip, knowing that if she fought back he'd be angrier and he'd hurt her more.

Tobias was a large man—towering over her and nearly rippling with large muscles. He could do a lot of damage to her if she continued to evoke his anger. Eileen just wished she hadn't left her wand in the kitchen. She could knock him out and make him forget that she used magic.

"I told you to not use magic in my fucking house, whore!" Tobias shouted as if he were reading her mind rather than remembering her why he was hurting her now.

"I'm sorry!" Eileen sobbed. Tobias growled and pushed her as hard as he could which resulted in the thin woman to practically fly across the room with the force. Eileen let out a gasp of pain as her body hit the bookcase harshly, breaking the shelves and scattering heavy book all over her fragile body, more than a few smashing into her head. She shifted lightly under the weight, groaning in pain as she felt the horrible fire of a broken rib and she was sure that she had a concussion. Tears began to prickle her eyes even though her eyes were closed tightly.

"Papa, you shouldn't hurt mummy!" a childlike voice shouted, forcing her eyes to snap open. A strangled noise of panic left her bruised throat as her oddly tilted head caused her to spot her little baby, Severus, standing in the doorway. His ratty blue teddy bear was clutched to his chest, the too large head covering some part of his face. He was only four years old but he was so bright and protective of her.

Eileen clawed her way out of the books and to her knees, crawling towards her Severus as fast as she could even though her head was pounding and her body screamed with pain. As she made the journey she prayed to every God she learned of that Tobias would spare the talkative little boy.

"Sev'rus… go… go to yoursh woom and… and… be," Eileen shook her head as her words came out slurred and together. She blinked at her son and realized that he was spinning slightly and her world was going vertigo. "Be mummy's big boy and go."

"Mummy, your mouth..." Severus stepped forward, his large onyx eyes so scared and worried as he stepped into the room instead of leaving as his mummy told him. He didn't want to leave her because she was hurt and the red stuff was pouring from head, dripping down her mouth too and she was talking funny.

"Get out of here, boy," Tobias hissed, hardly looking at his failure of a son. The boy was tiny, nothing like how he was as a child and he was a complete pussy—always holding onto that ugly bear and playing with girls instead of the other boys in the neighborhood. He didn't like physical games and shied away from anyone without a vagina.

It was just his luck; his son was a fag and his wife was a whore that could do magic. Next his son would be doing that freaky shit. If that happened he would kill the devil spawn because nothing that freaky came from his loins which meant his wife was even more of a whore for cheating on him.

"You shouldn't hurt mummy—leave her alone," Severus didn't back down even though he knew that his papa was so much bigger than him and stronger than him. He just wanted his mom to be safe and happy.

He didn't want to see her black and blue and crying because she was too pretty. She was too pretty to cry every night when she was cuddling him and much too pretty to be crawling on the dirty floor.

"What did you say to me, boy?" Tobias snarled, crouching slightly. His pathetic son let out a sniffle even though he tried to keep his little lips firm as he looked up at his father, large eyes narrowing just a bit and skinny arms curling around that godforsaken, hideous bear.

"Sev, be—be quiet," Eileen gasped out, coughing at the end. A whimper fell from her lips as she coughed up blood, it dripping onto the floor in front of her. Severus gasped and stepped further into the room and closer to his mum and papa.

"I said you shouldn't hurt mum! She love you and she too pretty for you to hurt. Now you stop or-or me and Mr. Tidwell will make you stop!" Severus shouted, stomping his dirty little foot into the cold floor.

Tobias smirked and shook his head. It was time for his son to learn that talking big to someone stronger would get him knocked down harder than he thought possible. He reached forward and gripped the skinny arm as tight as possible, ignoring the cries from the little boy and the light punches to his fingers.

"No! Don't touch him!" Eileen shrieked through her pounding head, suddenly jumping from the ground and throwing her body at him. Tobias stumbled in surprise, releasing the child's arm and giving Severus enough time to shoot off into another part of the house.

Tobias growled low under his breath and whirled on his wife, grabbing her shoulder before delivering a jaw cracking slap to her already red face. Eileen struggled against him with a new vigor, kicking and clawing at him desperately but he ignored her weak hits.

What he was focused on was teaching them both a lesson and, to get it through Eileen's head that he was the king in this house and freaks were punished, he'd have to use Severus.

"Shut up," he ordered, bringing his meat hammer of a fist to her temple. The thin woman immediately went slack in her unconsciousness and he allowed her to fall in a heap on the ground. Now he had to get that ugly little brat and bring him down here…

(**)

Tobias stood in the middle of his small living room and looked around. Severus was tiny so he could literally hide in more than a dozen places just in this room. He sighed low under his breath, a bit upset at the hard work he would have to do just to find the little fuck.

"Sev, you in here?" Tobias half cooed with his gruff voice, looking around the room carefully. Although his body shape caused it so that he could hide anywhere for hours at a time, Severus was a cowardly thing and would often shift nervously or let out little whimpers like the little fag he was and he was rather stupid despite his supposed high brain functions.

A soft voice here and gentle gestures there and he'd be running back into his arms within minutes. Tobias stood still for several moments, watching the slight shadows with an expert eye but none of them shifted and a sound was not heard so he gave up on this room. The kitchen was next.

The kitchen was… different. It was silent in a suppressed sense as if it was really full of sound but something was trying to muffle it. Tobias growled as such strange thoughts came to his mind and shook them away. He would not fall for his wife's witchcraft speak and find his son. He would kill both of them with a bath of gasoline and matches. He'd be sure to let them hold hands right before he flicked the matches.

"Severus, get out here so I can say sorry… come on little man," Tobias said, his voice seeming to echo in the unnaturally silent kitchen. There—he heard something roll under the kitchen sink. Tobias shook his head at his son's stupidity and strode over to it. Throwing it open he saw the tiny figure curled into the corner as far back as his body could go. His head was pressed against his knobby knees, hiding his face.

"Hey, come on out… come on, Severus," Tobias urged. The boy said nothing but he shifted further back and away from his father. So the little brat thought he could ignore him as if he were nothing?

Well, he'd show the little shit that he had another thing coming. With a glare, Tobias reached inside, his large hand gripping a large chunk of soft hair. He smirked and yanked as hard as he could to drag him out.

Automatically Tobias felt several sharp teeth sink into his hand—the fucker bit him! With a yelp, Tobias fell backwards in his effort to get the mouth to release him and landed on his backside. He rolled onto his knees, curling into his hurt hand and the boy made a run for it, dashing out of the kitchen in a flash of blue and disappearing elsewhere.

"What the fuck…?" Tobias looked at his hand, the ring of teeth looked as if his son had knives in his mouth. This was not a normal bite mark, it was deep and dripping slowly onto his kitchen's floor. That was when his anger grew to immeasurable bounds. He was going to kill that little shit now for drawing his blood.

Tobias stormed from the room, intent on finding Severus and snapping his scrawny neck. He knew that, although stupid, his son would not stay too close so he was upstairs more likely than not. He was probably under his bed or in a closet, cowering in fear so Tobias went up the stairs.

(**)

"Severus! Where are you!?" Tobias roared, his breath leaving his chest in huge gusts. The long hallway remained silent until a tiny giggle bounced across the walls. Tobias frowned and stepped further into the hallway, noting dimly that the lights that were downstairs were gone and he was engulfed in darkness.

"Don't play with me you little shit! Come out right now," Tobias demanded. The giggle came as a reply once again.

"You shouldn't have hurt my mum, papa," Severus giggled. Tobias blinked and there was his son, standing at the end of the hallway. His back was pressed into the wall and a smile sprawled across his pale face with genuine happiness as his large eyes blinked sweetly at the large man.

For once the ugly bear wasn't in his thin arms but he seemed confident in his stance all the same as if he knew that Tobias would not touch him. Tobias was sure that he'd knock that thought out of his head once he broke that little skull.

"You shouldn't have done it. Now Mr. Tidwell has to teach you a lesson, papa. Mr. Tidwell is mad at you," Severus continued even though Tobias was steadily advancing on him. He wasn't sure but the tone sounded a bit unnatural and hysterical to his ears but Tobias didn't care.

He wasn't scared of some little boy that thought his teddy bear could really do anything except act as a pillow. This child was nothing but an idiot head case and he'd have to teach him a lesson about the real world.

A door to Severus' left suddenly began to creak open and Tobias paused mostly out of curiosity then a large… thing slowly pulled itself through the too small doorway.

The thing was large, its head reaching the ceiling and its wide blue body nearly taking up the entire hallway. It crouched slightly like an animal and bared its large, sharp teeth at Tobias, hate reflecting in its glassy eyes. It was then that Tobias realized that he was looking at 'Mr. Tidwell'. It was the ugly little teddy bear that Severus carried around only now… now it wasn't little and it was must scarier.

Horror poured through Tobias' chest as he gazed up at the thing, his mouth trembled with his fear and he took a step back but the beast did not look as though it would allow him to escape. Instead of running as his mind screamed at him to do, Tobias found himself frozen.

"I'm sorry papa, Mr. Tidwell has to make you go away now… you keep hurting mummy and she don't like it and I don't like it," Severus' voice drifted from behind the beast in its childlike innocence. His voice snapped Tobias out of his frozen state and he turned on his heel to leave and outrun this monstrous beast.

Tobias had hardly made it two steps before a paw latched onto his leg and pulled it hard, forcing his face to slam into the wooden floor. A gasp of pain made it through his clenched teeth although it was followed by another when the beast flicked its arm and he was slammed into the wall then again into the other wall and again into the ceiling.

His large body continued to hit all of the surfaces as hard as possible, causing them to crack and break and blood to pour from his body. The beast seemed content on simply banging him again and again until he was coughing out his teeth.

"Please… please," Tobias whimpered, kicking weakly at the paw as everything stopped suddenly. Tobias spat out the pooling blood in his mouth and shifted weakly, feeling each broken bone and cracked ribs.

"Mr. Tidwell… papa learned his lesson… now make him go away," Severus ordered the beast. Tobias sobbed as the beast lifted him high in the air and he looked it in the face once again. It opened its mouth, showing each row of sharp, jagged teeth and then it bit into him. Tobias let out a howl of agony as his arm was ripped from his body and pure pain echoed through his nerves and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he went into shock.

Mr. Tidwell made short work of the now silent man.

(**)

Eileen slowly blinked her eyes open and looked around the sunlit room, noting that she wasn't in any pain although she knew that Tobias had roughed her up real good. She glanced at her bedside and saw her healing potions—that meant Severus had helped her.

She looked down and, sure enough, there was Severus. The boy was curled into her side, a tiny smile playing on his mouth. She tilted her head and she couldn't hear Tobias with his loud footsteps and gruff voice. Where was the man?

"Sev…?" she whispered, pulling her fingers through his clean hair. He must have taken a bath sometime but hadn't Tobias tried to hurt Severus? She was happy that he didn't seem bruised or anything but she would have liked to know as to why he wasn't.

"Mm… yes mum?" Severus murmured into her side, shifting until his large eyes were blinking slowly up at her in all of his four year old glory. Eileen smiled at him and slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, pulling the small boy into her lap.

"Where's your papa and are you okay?" Eileen inquired, looking over him carefully. He was dressed in one of her shirts which was much closer to his size than his papa's but still caused him to nearly swim in the thin material.

She couldn't see a single hair out of place nor could she smell any potions on his breath which was good. Severus beamed happily at his mum and immediately squirmed into his own sitting position.

"Mum, me and Mr. Tidwell made papa go away so he'd stop hurting you. Mr. Tidwell made sure he'd stay away and he made sure I wasn't hurt," Severus nodded excitedly. Eileen looked over to where his tiny finger was pointing and saw the roughed teddy bear.

There was something off about the thing… she wasn't sure but… what was that red smudge on the corner of its muzzle?

(**)

The End

I am not sure which is worse: getting killed because of your kid or getting eaten by a teddy bear. If he were still among us I'm sure Tobias would have learned the valuable lesson of not using profanity… wait… that wasn't why he got eaten!?


	8. Not my name ft Fred Weasley

So, this story is inspired by this horror book I read. I can't remember the name of it but this was my favorite story in the book—the only one I remember.

Summary: Fred meet George. George… meet Fred.

Rating: high PG

Words: 1,619

(**)

Fred played idly with his hospital bracelet. It wasn't that he hated hospitals but there was something about the white walls and blinding lights that sent warning bells in the back of his head. It was as if some locked away instinct told him that this place was not meant to be a place of safety despite the lives it saved. He could smell the antiseptics and bleach that probably covered every inch of this place. The smell tickled his nose and clawed at his throat. It was suffocating and he wanted nothing more than to jump up and run far away.

"Fred Weasley?"

His shock of red hair flew backwards as he was jarred out of his paranoid thoughts. He looked up at the rather pretty nurse and smiled brightly at her. He was getting a room transfer because someone in critical condition needed his room while he was waiting for his surgery. A smaller smile came to his lips as he looked at the bubble gum pink haired nurse.

"Hello, my name is Tonks. We're going to put you in this room with one other boy," Tonks said gently, getting behind Fred's wheelchair.

"Well, I've always wanted to experiment with my own gender," Fred joked. Tonks let out a shocked laugh, looking down at him for a second though in that second she nearly ran them into a wall. He jumped a bit and looked up at her to make sure that she had a real nurse's badge. It wasn't nice to question it but still…

"My name isn't George."

That was the first words he heard out of the kid's mouth. Well, he couldn't call the boy a kid because he was about his age. Actually, it ripped a real laugh out of Fred when he saw George because he looked almost exactly like him. Their red hair was somehow the exact same shade with the same brown eyes. It was freaky how much they appeared alike.

"It seems you found your long lost twin, eh Fred and George?" Tonks grinned as she carefully helped Fred into the bed beside the boy. They had a good distance between them but still, Fred had to wonder what this kid was in for that made him look so pale and a bit angry at being called George once again.

"My name isn't George!" George shouted, his brown eyes narrowing and his freckles coming out more vividly as his face turned red. Fred blinked at the other boy and tilted his head. It was obvious to him that this particular nurse had heard him say this before because she was simply smiling at him and nodding. Tonks checked over his vitals despite his slapping hands and squirming body before leaving the room with a cheerful goodbye.

"Hi, my name is—," Fred had always been a very cheerful, happy go lucky type of person. Even though there was something obviously wrong with his roommate didn't mean he would be rude and not try to talk to him.

"Fred, I heard her. My name isn't George," the red haired boy folded his arms over his chest. Fred smiled softly and reached out to gently poke the kid in the arm.

"Well, you do know that you're supposed to lead with your real name and not what your name isn't, right?" Fred smiled. The kid whose name wasn't George stared at him for a really long time, his eyes roving over his face and lingering on his hair before a smile came to his face. He sat up on his bed a bit more and leaned a little closer to Fred.

"Say, what are you in here for?" George inquired.

"I have to get my tonsils removed, they're infected though my mum says you'd never know seeing how much I still blabber on," Fred rubbed at his throat. It was swollen beyond belief and it hurt to talk but he couldn't help it. Even though his body wished to sleep, the last thing he wanted to do was laze about sleeping all day. He wanted to go outside and have fun, play around in those fallen leaves and really enjoy Halloween like everyone else was going to.

"They want to remove my left leg up to the knee—something about pinched blood vessels," George said with a tight voice. Fred winced, his face distorting slightly as he realized what position this boy was in. His name wouldn't be Fred either if Fred had to lose most of his leg. He kind of wanted to reach out and pat the kid on the shoulder or something but pity had a way of making an ass out of him so he kept his hands to himself.

"That sucks mate," Fred grunted sympathetically, listening to the odd hum that George gave him. There was something about this boy that warned his mind to get far away from him. He needed to run from this redhead and never look back. He didn't want to be anywhere near this George guy and it was a fairly reasonable thought… or so Fred believed.

It was sorely tempting to leave the hospital in nothing but this thin gown and hospital bracelet. He could almost feel the cold, wet gravel under his feet as he dashed down the streets. He wouldn't care that this hospital was extremely far from his home—it didn't matter. What mattered was getting away from this bat shit crazy George guy and never looking back.

If he wasn't sure that his mother would kill him, he would have done what his instincts dictated but he couldn't. He had to stay here like a good boy and calmly have surgery on his poor throat.

So Fred settled into the bed and went to sleep a couple of hours later.

(**)

In the dead of the night, where everything is silent save for the steady drip of the faulty bathroom sink and the soft tapping of nurses doing their respective rounds found Fred Weasley thoroughly unconscious.

He had always been a deep sleeper but something about the hospital allows him to stay in a delicate state of the in between. It was the state of where he was awake enough to be vaguely aware but sleeping enough to think everything was a very vivid dream.

The darkness in the room shifted and solidified at the end of his bed, turning into the blurry shape of a human being, hunched over his bed. Fred tilted his head heavily and shifted slightly, gaining the shadow's attention. The rain pattered heavily against the windows and thunder crashed loudly, drowning out the dripping water and the shoes of the nurses.

Then lightening flooded the room with light for a brief moment and Fred was looking at himself. He was at the end of the bed, holding some kind of board, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

"… George?" Fred whispered, his mind coming to the surface a little more to realize that he wasn't looking at himself, rather he was looking at his hospital roommate. His roommate smiled suddenly, the crashing lightening causing the teeth to look sharper and whiter and his eyes to look slightly hysterical.

"It's okay… this is just a dream, after all," George grinned and gave Fred's bare leg a small pat. Fred looked at the pale hand resting on his right leg, looking gat the black words that he couldn't decipher at the moment. George squeezed his thigh lightly and the lightening stopped and it was dark.

It was dark and he was tired and Fred was sleeping.

(**)

"Okay, George is this one."

Fred yawned and blinked into awareness as he realized that he was moving. He looked at the large men wheeling his bed out of the room and he frowned darkly. That man just called him George.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he rasped, sitting up on the bed weakly. God, he was so tired.

"George, your leg has to be amputated, you know this," the large man above Fred's head sighed. Fred let out a gasp and shook his head wildly.

"The fuck are you talking about!? My name is Fred Weasley!" Fred shouted, sitting up swiftly. He looked to his arm, seeing the strange IV and yanked it out. He wouldn't lose his left leg! His name was Fred—Fred! He wasn't George! A hard hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"They said that he doesn't admit to being George. Take off his blanket so we can see his legs."

Cold air suddenly rushed on his bare legs and Fred looked down to see black letters as clear as day on his right leg. They said 'NOT THIS LEG' in large, clear letters. It was so the doctors didn't make mistakes—it was on his leg. What were those words doing there!? He was only meant to get a small operation for his tonsils, nothing more!

"See George, this is the leg that stays. You have to get your left one off. Someone sedate him," the guard ordered. Fred fought as the large men held him down. He squirmed under them, tears blurring his vision as he tried to fight away. He didn't want to lose his leg! He wasn't George—he was Fred Weasley. His name was Fred!

"It's going to be alright, George…"

Fred gasped for air as the drugs pumped through his veins and his body became lax. As a final yelp slipped from his lips Fred glanced back at his room and that's when he saw him. There was George, sitting up on the bed. An outrageously happy smile decorated his face. As Fred was wheeled away, George gave him a big wave and a mocking 'good luck'.

(**)

The End


	9. Hero featuring James Potter

Summary: Being a hero doesn't always end well.

Words: 2,407

Rating: high PG13

(**)

The pink lips moved slowly to pronounce each dreadful word with perfect clarity. The words would have been nothing special had they not been said on this particular dark evening with the dark clouds crawling slowly across the star lit sky. The large, full moon never seemed closer and brighter than it did that day when those lips decided to spill those words.

"No, no I did not just hear you say that! Please tell me what you said," James nearly begged his best friend. He wanted to get on his knees and beg God to make it so that he had never seen Sirius stumble into their shared bedroom with the bottle of firewhiskey dangling from his fingers. Or, at the very least, Sirius could lie to him right now and tell him a completely didn't sentence.

"Merlin James, you gotta get your hearing checked out. I said that I sent that big nosed fucker to meet Moony. I'm sure he'll get a real scare," Sirius slurred slightly before tipping the bottle back and taking another swig. A drunken smile splayed across his lips and his glazed stormy blue eyes twinkled with smugness as he lowered the bottle until it laid beside him, some of the liquid spilling onto his bed. Anger flared in James' belly and he just barely stopped himself from beating the drunken teenager into an inch of his worthless life.

"You just hit the world fucking record for being a fucking idiot!" James hissed as harshly as he could before sprinting out of the room, his invisibility cloak clenched in the hand he would have used to punch that ruggedly handsome face into nothing but a slate of black, blue, and red. If there weren't precious few minutes that would make or break his chance of saving two boys' live…

(**)

James hit the cold, open air within moments and even still he pushed himself to run impossibly faster. He ignored his muscles as they yelled in protest and, instead, paid attention to his panicking brain because he knew Snivellus like the back of his hand. For someone that was truly too smart for his own good, he was also exceedingly predictable and nosy.

If there was a mystery, Snivellus wouldn't rest and if he could get the Marauders in trouble at the same time then he'd willingly cut off his own foot for that chance. For all of his foolish gullibility Snivellus really was a genius so he was probably well into getting torn apart by the vicious werewolf that laid in wait for him.

If God and Merlin were on Remus' and Snape's side then Remus wouldn't have finished his transformation yet. The cold wind that sent chills up and down his burning, sweating body urged him to go back inside, to not attempt a rescue on his own but he ignored it.

If Remus killed the greasy bastard then it would be Remus that got put down like some common swine at a farm. Remus was too nice and mild-mannered of a guy to have something as horrid as that happen to him.

With this final thought, James found himself inside the dirty tunnel that would lead him to the Slytherin and werewolf. He wasn't sure how he had gotten past the flailing tree without hitting the knot but whatever he had done, he would probably be feeling it in the morning.

A sigh of relief left his mouth even though he knew that the journey wasn't over in a long shot because he could hear Remus' voice loud and clear. It was filled with pain but it was also an obvious sign that he wasn't transformed. James dashed forward, panting loudly.

"Get-get out of here Snape! You have to run—run!" Remus ordered and then a thud as his short body hit the ground. James could hear the snapping bones and he knew that Snape was probably frozen with fear.

He burst through the door at that exact moment, its wood slamming harshly against the wall. He took in the sight before him in one blink.

Remus was on the ground, curled inward. One of his arms was tossed forward, fingers splayed out even as they rippled and stretched impossibly long to warn the Slytherin away. Then something changed. The panicking golden eyes began to blink rapidly in bewilderment and the pain that had overtaken his face was now pushed to the side to show a look of confusion. Whimpers tore themselves out from his throat and something slid in place for the transforming werewolf.

"Sn… RUN! RUN JAMES! GET AWAY FROM—," Remus' sudden shout was cut off as his jaw broken. This would not stop him as he pushed himself to his feet, staggering towards them with his half broken, hairy body. He threw his snapping and cracking arm out at Snape in a desperate attempt to do something but the Slytherin merely stepped backwards.

The dark eyes blinking swiftly and snapping over to James. He began to tremble with his fear and tears brimmed in his beady little eyes. That was when James snapped out of it and realized that in a few seconds, the two of them would be sharing a room with a very angry, very feral young werewolf that would not hesitate to dig its claws into their spines and viciously munch on their paralyzed bodies.

"We have to MOVE!" James shouted, grabbing Snape's skinny arm and swinging him into the open doorway. The smaller boy practically flew down the tunnel as James awarded him with several harsh pushes. He slammed the door behind them but he wanted to make sure that Moony did not have a snowball's chance in Hell of getting either of them.

"NOOO-AHOOOOOO!" Remus howled behind them. James ignored the noise and focused on escaping.

(**)

He had done it. James had actually saved Snivellus from being eaten by his best friend with only a few scratches to mark the occasion. As he brought his breathing under control, his anger began to rise and it was not directed at Sirius any longer. Instead, he was focusing on Snape who was coming in close second for the award of being a fucking idiot.

"You damned moron!" James shouted, grabbing the black haired boy by his long hair. He was sure to lace every oily strand he could manage between his fingers before pushing the boy's face into the stone wall. He did it again for good measure before pulling his fingers from the disgusting hair. He shook the tuff of hair from his hand and glared at the boy who had slid down the wall, whimpering low under his breath with his back still towards James.

"What is WRONG with you!? You boast about your intelligence, show off in class and yet you are stupid enough to listen to Sirius FUCKING Black." James bellowed loudly, not caring that they could be discovered any moment from now. He didn't care about anything but Snape's stupidity.

In his heart and mind, he knew that Sirius was at huge fault for sending Snape to be 'scared shitless' by Moony but the Slytherin was just as wrong for going there. Sirius Black did nothing but torture and torment Severus Snape—he even came up with the moniker, Snivellus. So why would a victim listen to his bully's words?

He let out a rough sigh, pulling his thick fingers through his hair as be began to pace in front of the Slytherin. He just wanted to punch the boy's teeth out and watch him pick them up but that wouldn't be right. They just got out of a life threatening situation. Snivellus' shoulders were shaking—the sap was crying. James sighed low under his breath and stepped towards the boy.

"Listen, I'm so—," James was cut off as he realized that Snape wasn't crying at all. He was actually laughing.

"Hahahaha! Oh Merlin, Potter, you never can take your head from your ass… can you!?" Severus cackled darkly. He tossed head back, black hair flipping from his pale face as he laughed joyously and mockingly at the confused Gryffindor. For some reason his mind went back to Remus, when he was transforming…

"Sn… RUN! RUN JAMES! GET AWAY FROM—."

Remus had suddenly become frightened. He had even fought through his pain to strike out at Snape. But why would Remus, who was turning into a werewolf be scared of little Snivellus? The boy was tiny, barely hitting any of their chins' and probably weighed less than most of the girls in the school. The only time he was dangerous was when he had his wand on hand and James was noticing the lack of wand as the Slytherin had a merry time laughing his lungs through his mouth.

"What is so damn funny, you idiot?" James gritted through his teeth. Then Snape was no longer laughing. His face was blank like marble, two onyx eyes like dead stones glimmered out at him while his greasy black hair fell in shining tendrils to frame his deathly still face.

"You are so idiotic Potter… it's so sad," Snape cooed, stepping closer with his face still emotionless. James found himself taking a staggering step backwards as fear crept up his chest and clawed at his throat. For some reason his eyes drifted down to Snape's lips which seemed to be the only thing that moved. They were thin and slowly stretching into a smile and beyond those thin, pale lips were a set of bright white teeth that were slowly… growing.

His canines were slowly growing longer and thinner until they passed his bottom lips as two pin point fangs lying in his mouth. James' brain came to a stuttering halt and his breath left in short, pained gasps. All that was left was his primal instincts and they told him that running was what he should do. His legs were moving before he could really think on it. He thought to scream but he knew that if he did, he'd lose his breath that much quicker and the vampire would get him—

"ACK!" James choked as a set of bone white fingers clamped onto his neck. Severus slammed him roughly into the ground, crouching over him menacing. The black eyes that he thought so bug like were now animalistic, nothing existed except for the span of black. No soul lay beyond those eyes and he would find no mercy at the hands of this monster.

"I'm going to enjoy your blood, Potter. I haven't had any in so long…" Snape purred as he pulled his hand from James' body and simply straddled him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to enjoy the sweet smell that lay just beyond James' quivering neck. The Gryffindor pressed himself into the ground, trying to get away from the beast above. It weighed close to nothing but he was so strong as its thighs clamped onto his waist.

"I was so desperate for some blood that… I was going to sample a werewolf, disgusting creatures that they are," Severus murmured against the beautiful neck below him. He pressed his lips gently into the skin and allowed a fang to graze the perfect skin, nicking his prey deep enough to bring up a single line of blood.

"You… you planned this? You went to Remus on purpose?" James stuttered, cringing as the tongue continued to molest his skin. He was going to die after he saved someone's life. He let out a whimper as Snape sat up and back, gazing down at him. He face looked a bit livelier, a bit of color coming just at the edges of his face. His hair even looked a tad less greasy. He pulled thin fingers through his hair and let out a huff, his demonic eyes tossing a glare to the noisy shack.

"Their blood tastes like piss but beggars cannot be choosers," Severus smiled, idly pulling off the gold and red necktie that James still wore. James didn't want to die—he wanted to live. With a sudden burst of strength, James threw Snape off his body. The skinny vampire skidded back and James hurriedly placed his cloak on and dashed to the school. If he could even step a foot inside, Dumbledore would feel his panicking magical levels and stop the freak from eating him.

His heart pounded in his chest much faster than when he went to save Snape. Tears were brimming in his eyes and he felt fear chewing the courage he had. He wanted nothing more than to rewind time and allow Moony to maul the Slytherin or even to have listened to Remus' warning.

James rounded a corner of the castle and stopped immediately, falling on his ass but he was sure to keep the cloak covering his body. Snape stood in front of the door, blocking his entrance.

"You can't run from me, Potter… you can't even hide from me! That cloak has no effect on 'freaks' like me. I can smell your blood and hear your heart… you are so scared. Where is that Gryffindor courage I hear so much about?" Severus taunted, striding over to James. He reached down and ripped the cloak off, sneering down at the cowering boy.

"I-I saved your life, I rescued you from death," James begged. Tears and snot flowed down his face and he had no way of stopping it. He was scared. He was scared as he viewed the vampire standing over him, face pale and inhuman with his mouth opened to reveal the horrific fangs. The bright, full moon hung behind his head, shining him in an unflattering light.

"Oh Potter," Snape's face shifted into fake concern as he once again straddled James' waist. He pushed the messy locks from James' sweaty forehead and smiled lightly. It was a beautiful smile that brought humanity back to the monster's face as the fangs disappeared. A bit of hope began to burn in James' chest as the Slytherin continued to run his fingers through his hair. The smaller boy leaned down until they were a few inches apart.

"Heroes don't always have a happy ending," Snape murmured before his fangs snapped down and dug into the succulent neck below. James' screams of agony and horror never made it to the ears of anyone could help.

(**)

The End

That's just plain rude.


	10. Anniversary ft Narcissa Black

I made this literally five minutes ago.

Summary: Narcissa is sure that something isn't right.

Rating: low M

Words: 1308

(**)

She hummed lightly as she walked slowly through the dark house. A small smile played on her beautiful lips as she made her way down the long hallway and past the living room. It was a magnificent house but of course she would know because she decorated it. It was her house; she lived there with her husband.

Narcissa made a left, opening a door that had a small light under it. A frown played along her lips as she viewed the half done library, books lining half of the shelves though the open boxes protested to the room being complete. That was odd… she never wanted a library and she certainly didn't recognize these titles. She knew her husband didn't read these either. She shrugged it off and turned off the small light.

She was so happy this evening. It was her and Lucius' first anniversary. She hadn't seen him all day but that was okay because she knew that Lucius would never forget their wedding day. It was such a magical day with rows upon rows of their family members, each silently supporting the other.

Narcissa turned into the den and smiled softly at the crackling fire that warmed the room immediately. She glided gracefully to the beautiful mantle where photos decorated between the candle holders. She picked up the first one.

Ah, the first picture held a lovely photo of her Lucius. He sat beneath a tree, the golden leaves falling around him. Next to him was another lad, this one with black hair. Narcissa tilted her head with another frown because she didn't recognize this boy. His head lay on Lucius' shoulder comfortably as if he belonged and a small grin was playing along his thin lips.

Blood. "Oh God, Narcissa, what have you done!?"

Narcissa smiled in a confused fashion and shook her head softly to rid the images from her mind. She replaced the photo and went to the next one. This one, too, had the black haired lad only this time he was laughing. Color swept his pallid cheeks and his eyes—

Eyes as bottomless as abysses stared lifelessly from below the red tinted water.

She was getting scared now. Who was this boy and why did she feel as though something was wrong!? Narcissa slammed the photo back on the mantle and quickly gazed over the photos. None of them held her. Not one! There sat a wedding photo but it wasn't her and Lucius. It was the damned black haired lad, both of them in pressed suits and looking proud with their family on both sides.

What kind of sick joke was this? Lucius knows that she hates surprises so why was he punishing her like this? Had she done something wrong or… or was it this black haired boy's fault?

"Narcissa—you crazy bitch! Oh Severus, Severus… please don't be dead. Please, please breathe. Breathe Sev!"

Narcissa ran from the den, shutting the door harder than she thought she had the strength to do. The paintings along the wall rattled and it was the first time that Narcissa had even noticed them. She glared at them, confused by the pictures. She didn't like this kind of art and neither did Lucius. She knew what her Lucius liked and this certainly wasn't it. She would be having a talk with the delivery people tomorrow but for now, she had to get the kitchens because it was their anniversary. It was a time of happiness.

"You… you killed him. You killed him. Why? Why would you do this? I told you that I love him—I'm gay Narcissa. Severus is my husband and you… you… oh God, Severus…"

Narcissa resisted the urge to place her hands over her ears to ward away the voice. It sounded so much like Lucius and he was crying. He was weeping in her mind, holding onto a wet and naked man with black hair as if he were his lifeline.

She shook her head wildly because that was just ridiculous to think, Lucius was in the kitchen, waiting for her. He had messaged her to come home for her surprise. She had been so surprise to see the black haired man in the library… wait what library? They didn't have a library.

Narcissa rushed to the kitchen, running as fast as her stilettos allowed her to run. She burst through the door barring her from the kitchen but it was empty. There was no light and no living souls. Tears began to brim at the bottom of Narcissa's eyes because now she was frightened and confused. She fell to her knees and brought her hands to her head, pulling at her beautiful yellow hair.

"Who are you?!"

"You home wrecking bitch, what are you doing in my tub!?"

Knife. Stab, yell, stab, scream, stab, stab, stab, stab, stab blood so much blood. Red tinted water swirling around the pale man as he sunk under. His wide, onyx eyes stared up at her and she panted with the effort that it had taken. The blade fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

"Oh God, Narcissa, what have you done!?"

Then the door burst open and she saw him. It was her love, her Lucius. She opened her arms for him with a smile of relief but he rushed beyond her. He ran to the tub and pulled the black haired slut from the depth of his watery grave. It was easy to carry the thin sack of bones from the tub. He was muttering under his breath as he viewed the mutilated, bloodied body.

"Narcissa—you crazy bitch! Oh Severus, Severus… please don't be dead. Please, please breathe. Breathe Sev!" Narcissa was confused. Why was Lucius going for that slut? He should be holding her, she had been so scared. She reached out and touched her love but he whirled on her, his eyes furious and sad.

"You… you killed him. You killed him. Why? Why would you do this? I told you that I love him—I'm gay Narcissa. Severus is my husband and you… you… oh God, Severus…" he crumbled at the bottom of the bed, his head pressed against the thin, soaking hand of the dead whore. Narcissa frowned and went back to the bathroom. She picked up the blade and strode back to Lucius.

He was hers. She loved him. He loved her. She was perfect for him. She would do anything for him. He deserved her.

"Narcissa, what are you doing?"

Narcissa's head snapped up and she saw him. Lucius was standing above her, his cold hand pressed onto her shoulder. A warm smile splayed across his lips as she helped her to her feet. She immediately hugged him, pulling him closer than necessary.

"Oh Lucius, I had the most horrible dream," she sobbed, walking along as he positioned her in a chair. They were sitting at the table. Narcissa looked around and gasped at the beautiful spread. Two candles burned in the middle of the table and roses covered the cloth. It was magnificent.

"It's beautiful—," she turned to compliment Lucius but he wasn't there. Narcissa tilted her head and looked around the table and she saw him. He sat to her right, leaned back against his chair, his beautiful head lolled just in her direction. His blank gray eyes gazed blankly at her. She smiled softly and reached to push his blond locks back.

"Oh honey," she whispered worriedly as several strands came off in her hand. Lucius remained silent and she hoped that she hadn't insulted him. Narcissa would love him no matter what, even if his skin was looking rather yellow and a smell was starting to emit from his thinning body.

She smiled brightly and bit into her chicken. This anniversary was perfect.

(**)

The End

Sometimes we simply… we must simply tolerate bat-shit crazy people. This is one of those times.


	11. In my Room ft Percy Weasley

Music is a great inspiration (Insane Clown Posse for this particular story). Technically speaking Voldemort or Tom... or even Sev would have made more sense for this part but I like it with Percy. That and I have to try not to use characters over and over. Enjoy!

Summary: Percy would do anything for her!

Rating: R… big R

Words: 1729

AU: no magic

(**)

Percy tapped his pencil on the end of his desk, trying to keep his eyes from drifting to the clock once more. It wasn't going to move any faster if he stared at it than if he simply ignored it and finished his work but he needed for it to hurry. He wanted to go home and—

BRRRRRRRINNNNG!

Percy nearly flew from his chair, his odd glasses falling off his nose and onto the ground. He almost left them there in his hurry to leave but the last thing he needed was to hear his mother screech and preach about money being tight. God, he hated that woman. He stooped down and placed the glasses back on his face and strode from his classroom, his face determined and set.

In a normal teenager's life, a few friends might have stopped them on their way out, perhaps even asked them where they were going in such a hurry but not Percy. Everyone at his school thought him to be a freak, an oddball. They parted like the Red Sea as he passed and Percy enjoyed it. He wasn't in school to make friends so he simply talked to no one and warded away anyone that wished to try to speak with him by having a sharp tongue and hot glare.

The walk home was as all the others, alone and quiet but that was how he liked it. No one that would slow him down or distract him from his goal. He made it home in his normal record time and burst through the door. He rushed right to the stairs, taking them two at a time. There was no one home for him to speak to so there was no hassle although he nearly tripped over his mother's cat on his way to his room.

"Damn monster," he muttered, throwing an absent minded kick in the beast's direction before slamming through his room's door. He stripped off his shoes, socks and first shirt, throwing the items into some dark corner of his room. He flopped gracelessly onto his bed, lying flat on his back and staring up at his ceiling.

Then he waited. He watched as the sun slowly but surely created long shadows across his walls and sunk in a flaming ball of glory below the horizon. A small smile came to his lips and his brown eyes flashed with happiness because now… now was the time for the real show.

(**)

Tap. Tap.

Percy smiled mentally and rolled off his bed. She was here! He rushed over to his window and lifted the glass, holding out a hand to help her inside even though she didn't need it. Her name was Audrey and she was a ghost. She hadn't told Percy how she died but he did know that it wasn't very good.

She was demonic and bloody when she spoke, painting pictures of blood dripping from the wall and revenge on those that killed her but he didn't care about her morbid view because she loved him and he loved her. At night she held him with care and love as he always wanted.

He was never alone because of Audrey—she was always with him in his room. She loved him and he loved her. He really, really loved her.

"Oh Percy," she whispered, her cold voice wrapping around him and cooling his warm room. He didn't mind. Percy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into her beautiful lips. He continued to kiss her until she disappeared and the warmth of that dreadful sun hit his pale skin. He glared at the rising star and threw himself roughly on his bed.

Damn.

"_Percy, please look at me. Good, now why do you believe that no one knows you as you said in our last meeting?" _

"_I always try to smile but it's fake because I don't love anything or anyone. Well no… no… I love a ghost and that has to be something…" _

"_A ghost? Tell me about her." _

"_Her name is Aubrey. She never talked very much but when she did… it always became cold in my room. We usually just laid on my bed, holding each other." _

Percy held tight to Aubrey, pressing his nose into her full set of hair. He knew that they loved each other so much and they had little need for others and that actually warmed him up a bit. He opened his mouth to say something when she let out a short shriek and disappeared. Percy sat up quickly on the bed, looking around. The sun was nowhere in sight but…

"You little bastard!" he hissed at his mother's cat. The monster must have scared his Aubrey. He grabbed the ginger beast by the neck, ignoring the claws that immediately sunk into the flesh of his hand, and gave a sharp twist. It laid dead in his hands, its limp body thrown to the floor and far away from his bed.

"You can come back Aubrey, its dead… it's gone! Please don't ignore me Aubrey, come back. I'll do anything for you!" Percy called out but she didn't come back. He pressed his head into his hands and let out a several loud sobs. God, he missed her already.

"_I would have taken a shotgun to school long ago without her. I hate those bastards and, if Aubrey had asked, I would have killed them all. I would have painted the school with their blood and made tracks to their terrified screams. I love Aubrey, she's my everything. I hate the damn sun for taking her away every morning." _

_(**)_

Percy kissed Aubrey again and he nearly giggled at the odd feeling that engulfed his body. It caused small tremors to start at the base of his spine and continue up his body the longer he held the kiss. He felt her tongue pressed into his mouth for the first time and he marveled at the taste of… her mouth tasted like freshly cooked bacon. Suddenly she pulled away and turned her large blue eyes up at him and her lips pulled down into a frown.

"_I remember thinking, uh-oh, my baby is upset! I've got to fix it and stop whatever is upsetting her. I've got to help her. She looked like she was going to cry. I had to help her… you understand, right?" _

"What's wrong?" Percy whispered, drawing his fingers softly down her cheek. She turned her head into his hand briefly and bestowed an icy kiss to his palm.

"The neighbor's kid saw me coming in tonight. I can't come back anymore because they know our secret," she sighed sadly. Percy felt his heart pound in his chest and dread washed over him like a tidal wave. His eyes searched her remorseful face desperately while his mind tried to come up with something… anything—

"What if I make them keep the secret?" he asked.

(**)

"_It was a horrible idea but it was for my Aubrey. It was for her so I couldn't question myself. You know… I got this feeling—this idea—that if I did this, she would be real. She would be alive… we could be together forever!" _

Percy grabbed his mother's shotgun and checked to see there was only a single bullet left. He sighed and realized that he needed other weapons. He quickly grabbed the long kitchen knife and slipped out into the night. The cold wind blew down the dark street, leaves drifted along his feet. He jumped over the short fence and quickly cut through the screen window which was the only thing protecting the house from intruders.

The house was painfully silent as he made his way to the kid's room first. He looked at the brightly kitschy nameplate 'DUDLEY' and he knew that the life ruining kid was in there. He kicked open the door, not caring about being silent any longer and took two long steps into the room. The boy sat up in his bed, his piggy eyes staring out at him in wide confusion. Percy smiled lightly and pulled the trigger. The left half of his head exploded and slapped into the blue wall in a splash of red blood and pink brain matter. It was magnificent.

"Next time, mind your own business," he hissed to the dead child. There was a loud cry of terror and several noises behind him. Percy turned around to see the mother and father running away from the room. He sighed and took off after the father first, hitting the man with the butt of his gun harshly. He fell with a wet thud and Percy shredded his throat crookedly. His warm blood gushed out and splashed all over Percy's front.

"Oh God, someone help me! Please!" the wife cried from downstairs. Percy rushed down the steps to see the woman desperately trying to unlock her door, keys rattling in her thin fingers and her face twisted in fear. He strode over to her and sunk his nice into her back. Then he did it again, and again and again and again. He continued even after no more blood splashed onto his hands and face. He continued until not a single noise was made, until he was in the silence once again.

They were all dead. He killed them all and he was happy and proud of himself. He went home a bloody mess, leaving through the front door and not looking back. A quick shower took care of the blood and he went back to bed to wait for his love to come back to him.

And he waited.

And he waited.

(**)

"_I waited two… three… no four days. I waited for her tap that she usually made. Those days turned into months. I waited two or three months but she never came. God WHY didn't she come!? Tell me! Why didn't she come back!? I did it. I killed those damn people and she didn't come back! I hated the mess I made but I did it for her. I waited and waited and waited and she never came back. She's probably waiting for me at home, in my room. Please, get me out of this jacket so I can go home to her. Why are you doing this!? Why!? WHY!?" _

(**)

The End


	12. Liar featuring Dudley Dursley

A/N: I just realized that I don't need Halloween to post horror stories.

AU: no magic… again

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Summary: Dudley messes with Harry one too many times

(**)

Pain was the first thing he felt as he slowly came back into consciousness. He felt as though he had been hit by several cars and now he was laying in something confining and hard. The heavyset boy shifted and groaned, his eyes fluttering open to see darkness. He let out a whimper and put his hand out, shocked when he hit the sides of what felt to be a box. His heart began to pound in his chest and sweat poured from his face and neck as fear slammed into his thick frame. He pressed his arms up and felt a lid then he heard a noise. It sounded as if something was raining down on him.

"H-help!? Help me!" he called out, pounding on the top of the coffin—yes, Dudley knew that he was in a coffin but he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. How had…?

"I thought you insisted that the boy was dead, Harry?" a silky voice stated somewhere high above. That voice gave him hope and he began to pound on the coffin—the voice was that of an adult man but had he said Harry…? Oh God, Dudley knew how he had gotten in this predicament.

(**)

Harry ran as fast as he could manage, his breath scraping along his poor lungs. Fear caused his heart to beat painfully hard in his chest but he managed to keep just out of reach at the boys that were chasing him. He was so tired but he couldn't stop running unless he wanted to return home with a plethora of bruises and cuts. The last thing he needed was the do his chores with open wounds. Harry ducked into an alley and quickly hid in a small cranny that hid him from view. It was his favorite hiding spot and he could still fit inside even though he was fourteen.

"Where that freak go?!" the boys shouted as they made their way into the dark alley. Harry sighed mentally and relaxed in his cranny, knowing that they'd never find him in the secluded spot. He listened to their feet pounding away and waited another half an hour before he dragged himself from his hideout and into the open. Harry carefully made his way home, his ears practically roving around his head in their obsession to catch any noise to signal damage to his skinny body. Somehow, he made it home with nary a scratch although he knew that he wasn't too safe at home either seeing as his cousin Dudley was usually leading the hunt on Harry.

The green eyed teenager felt his anger rise at his own flesh and blood. Dudley always tormented him for little more reason than he was small. Harry had not done anything to the fatter boy except be skinny and not fail at school. Dudley got whatever he wanted and yet it was Harry that he hated with a vicious passion. The green eyed teenager shook his head in disgust and entered his home.

"Hey Freak, nice day at school?" Dudley greeted him as soon as he entered the house. Harry stopped in front of the boy and looked at him. If someone could look like a pig but still human then it was definitely Dudley. He was basically fat piled onto more fat with small, piggy like brown eyes that were usually glaze over because he couldn't understand the simplest of things. He had a small, pink mouth that parted to ease his breaths in and out of his body. A pig in a wig what with the long length that his hair seemed to carry these days. Today he was wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by dirty dishes suggesting that Aunt Petunia had bought into his 'sickness' and pleaded his way into staying home and being catered to. Harry shook his head and started towards the stairs.

"Don't ignore me FREAK!" Dudley shouted and Harry had to practically throw himself to the ground to not be hit by a flying dish. He stood up and stared at his cousins, eyes wide and nearly falling from his skull in shock.

"What is going on here!?" Petunia's harpy like voice echoed in the medium sized house as she came running from the kitchen. Harry remained silent, already knowing that nothing he said would be heard.

"The freak won't answer my question so I threw something at him and he dodged it. It's his fault that it's broken," Dudley whimpered in a pathetic matter, sniffling and forcing his eyes to go round like some obese, sick puppy. Harry curled his lip but continued his vow of silence, staring down at the ground as his aunt coddled the lump of lard and turned on Harry. She wouldn't dare hit him lest she be charged with child abuse but Dudley usually took care of the physical beatings so there was nothing to worry about from her.

"Don't you provoke my Dudders!" his aunt shrieked at him, her bony fingers wagging warningly. Harry sighed at the predictable reaction and started his journey up the stairs. It was time for him to feed the stray cat he found and, perhaps, get some sleep. Hopefully his Aunt Petunia won't slip something rotting under his door as food. The last thing he desired was Hedwig getting sick. Harry ran a hand through his wild hair and prayed that his anger always remained low key. He didn't want to hurt anyone else ever again.

(**)

Dudley was bored. It was Saturday, all of his friends were grounded because of some prank they pulled that resulted in property damage and his mum had gone off on a lunch date with a group of her friends. His father was sleeping and had basically warned him against waking him up lest he walk away with a few aching body parts. Dudley sighed, his fat cheeks puffing up dramatically before letting go of his breath, sitting back on the couch. There was nothing on the telly and he hadn't seen the freak all day.

Dudley grinned at the thought of Harry hiding from him then it turned to a frown. No, Harry was not scared of him anymore. For some reason the freak just stopped being scared. He simply ran when he gave chase only because he didn't like bruises but when he and his friends caught him, he no longer begged and he simply took his beating silently as he did most things these days. If Dudley could spare a moment to rationally think things through then he might have made some sort of connection, figured out that something significant happened to his cousin and possibly have simply left the skinnier boy alone but, of course Dudley could not rationally think and he went hunting for Harry.

It wasn't hard to find the freak. Harry was sitting at the swings in a local park, idly kicking his legs so that he swung slowly. He didn't even look as Dudley strode over to him with a nasty smirk on his lips. He was going to teach that freak about being a freak.

"What are you doing here Potter? Waiting for your mum to come get you… oh wait, she's not here anymore!" Dudley gasped dramatically. This actually got a reaction from Potter, causing his head to snap over to Dudley and his green eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Dudley grinned nastily because now he knew that there was something that would get a reaction from Potter.

"I bet you she died just to get away from you," Dudley continued. Suddenly the green eyes darkened to an acid green that literally felt as though it were burning Dudley's skin but he couldn't allow himself to show the freak that he was even the tiniest bit scared of him. No, he wasn't scared of the scrawny boy he beat up for fun on a boring Saturday's afternoon.

"Don't you talk about my mum," Harry hissed, his teeth gritting together and his fingers tightening on the swing's chain until his knuckles turned white and shook subtly.

"What are you gonna do if I keep on, huh? You gonna hit me?" Dudley laughed at the thought that Harry would dare to hit him. He would eat any hit that Harry dealt out with his tiny fists. Harry suddenly relaxed in his swing and a small, wistful smile came to his pink lips.

"I would never hit you Dudders but I would kill you. I've done it before," Harry said softly. Dudley scoffed nervously and shifted on his feet. He didn't believe Harry, why would he? He was Harry for God's sake!

"You couldn't hurt a fly, you poof!" Dudley retorted weakly although he tried to keep his confidence. He didn't like the way his cousin's eyes were so unfocused and yet slightly glazed in their insanity. If he were any normal teenage boy, Dudley would have laughed at Harry once more and simply walked away but he was a bored, not too bright teenager that never listened to his instincts and he often found himself with too big of an ego. So Dudley did the thing that any dim, bored teenager with a big ego would do: he egged Harry on.

"You're not gonna do nothing because if you do my dad will kick you right out!" Dudley tried to smirk but his lips could not quite make the expression quite effectively, "And if he kicks you out, you'll die in like five minutes on your own."

"I have friends that will help me kill you," Harry warned. Dudley scoffed and began to laugh because the thought of Harry having friends much less killing him was much more comical than anything that Dudley could have found on the telly. The last time Harry had a friend, he was some creepy guy with dirty hair and they were four.

"You haven't hurt a single thing in your life. You're too weak," Dudley sneered. Harry finally stood up from the swing and pretended to dust himself off, taking his sweet time while Dudley actually felt alarm bells rang off in the back of his head. He knew that now would be a good time to simply laugh one more time and walk away but he could let Harry think that he was even the slightest bit scared of him!

"Do you remember our old English Professor?" Harry asked lightly. Dudley rolled his little brown eyes.

"Of course I do. He was that bouncing fairy that made up stories and always went on about himself," Dudley waved a fat hand.

"Yeah and you know that he died five days ago, right?" Harry continued as if speaking to a small child, not that Dudley caught on to that.

"Of course! Idiot drove off the side of the road and died," Dudley filled in. Harry came closer until they were nose to nose and Dudley could see that tiny spark in Harry's eyes. It was a spark that told him that Harry was not well, that Harry meant business and that Harry would hurt him. Dudley took a step back but Harry was not letting him go, stepping until they were toe to toe once more.

"No, I killed him," Harry whispered.

"Liar," Dudley stuttered.

"You want me to prove it but if I do I'll have to kill you too," Harry offered. Dudley folded his arms and stepped away from the skinny boy with one large step. He folded his arms but Dudley knew that he would now be listening to his instincts. He would be getting away from Harry and probably never taking him on one on one. He gave out a shaky chuckle and started to leave the park.

"Bye Dudders…" Harry whispered so low that it surely wasn't meant to be heard but the wind carried it. Dudley turned around to see Harry walking back to his swing to sit back down and go back to whatever freaky thing he was daydreaming about when he first came into the park. He was making fun of Dudley, mocking him for being a right coward. Dudley felt his face turn an angry purple as he imagined Harry laughing at him for believing his lies.

"You're gonna prove it you freak!" Dudley finally shouted. Harry's head shot up and his green eyes blinked owlishly from behind his round glasses frame. Dudley growled and stomped over to his cousin, grabbing a skinny arm as hard as he possibly could and pulling him from the swing. Harry was light under his hold, weak—much too weak to have killed anyone!

(**)

Swollen cheeks tinted red puffed out and died down with each gasping breath the owner took. Dudley's eyes were squinted against the sweat that dripped down his forehead and into said eyes. He grunted and brought a fat hand up to brush away the liquid. He then glared over at his cousin. The skinny freak wasn't even sweating or panting, looking as though he walked this huge hill every day of every hour. Dudley sneered, he probably did.

"When are we getting there?" Dudley panted once more. Green eyes narrowed behind rounded glasses before the freak turned his head all the way towards him. Just as he opened his mouth to say something nasty, Harry stopped walking and threw out his skinny arms.

"We're here, Dudley," Harry grinned. Dudley looked around and noticed that this was almost the exact location that Lockhart's car was found. They stood almost at the top of a large hill where drivers got into the most accidents due to the fact that there was no railing and they were coming off a very curvy road. Most people avoided this road for the sole fact that it was dangerous but it was a great shortcut into anywhere in the city. However, as Dudley looked around, he noticed nothing that would have indicated that Harry was the cause of the accident. In fact, all looked fine.

"I knew you were a liar—where are you doing?" Dudley called as his cousin began down the side of the hill. He went after the skinny boy, curiosity quipped once more. As he rounded behind a large rock, Dudley prepared to follow only for a sharp pain to crash into the side of his head. He whirled around sluggishly and saw Harry standing there, a large rock in his hand.

"Wha… what…?" he slurred. Harry smirked at him and came closer even as Dudley back away. He found himself falling down and rolling, his body crashing into rocks, sharp branches, and various other things until he finally stopped. He groaned in pain, tears prickling down the side of his temples and going into his hair, soaking it.

"I told you I'd have to kill you Dudley," Harry smiled as he suddenly appeared above him. The skinny boy lifted his foot and brought it down sharply, descending Dudley down into darkness.

"Well, it might give him some time to think about what he's done, you know?" he heard Harry's voice. The man let out a silky laugh and the sound of something raining down on him came—dirt. He was going to be buried alive—killed like Harry had killed Lockhart. The fat boy began to bang useless at his coffin, tears running down his face once more. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to DIE!

(**)

The End

Eh, wasn't scary but, whatever.


	13. The Monster featuring Neville Longbottom

Inspired by a movie called uh 'Horror from the Hood' or something along those lines. Only difference is that I'm changing the middle… and the ending… and the moral.

Summary: It's the monster that hurts him—the monster that beats him but no one believes Neville. No one believes in the Monster.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I technically don't even own the story sadly enough. I don't own the characters either.

Warning: obviously violence, a child being hurt and if that's not enough warning…

(**)

The boy lay in his bed, brown eyes trained on the door to his bedroom. He tried to keep his breath low and stable, tried to be as peaceful as possible. He wanted to seem like he was sleeping because, really, no one would hurt you if you were sleeping and if they did, at least you were sleeping when they did it but he couldn't sleep. He couldn't sleep with his ears pounding with the sound of his heart and the sweat that pooled on his forehead. He glanced down his door slowly, tracing the little pictures and shapes that were glued to it before they reached the bottom. The light was on in the hallway, shining under his door but that was all.

There was no shadow and a bit of hope shone for the little boy. If there was no shadow that meant that It wasn't there and if It wasn't there then that meant that he was practically safe. A small smile tried to make its way on the boy's thin lips but it was stopped as a shadow appeared under the door. No, no, no! Not when he was so close. The boy whimpered softly and pulled his blanket high up, all the way to his eyes. He wished that he could hide his head but he couldn't. He couldn't take his eyes off that shadow because hope was still there. If the shadow stayed still then that meant that It was just watching him. It wouldn't enter, It would leave him alone. It was like a contest between the thing and the boy. Both were still, both were so very still.

Then the shadow moved and the boy knew that It was coming to get him. He would be hurt so bad. Tears prickled the sides of the boy's eyes and he tried to not cry out loud as his doorknob slowly turned. Oh God, It was toying with him. It was teasing him, making him wait but It made sure that he knew that eventually, It would get to him. The door slowly came open, the light from the hallway making a cut into his room.

"Oh Nevvvvvillllllle," it whispered tauntingly. The door threw itself open, blinding the brown haired boy and he let out a scream.

(**)

Severus gazed over his students with a careful eye, making sure that they were all doing their lab work correctly or as correctly as the dunderheads could get. My, he surely hated teaching Chemistry to a bunch of ten year olds but he owned Albus so he wouldn't complain. As he walked down the cleared aisles, he noticed one child that was on the wrong lesson entirely. It was Neville Longbottom. The child was a hopeless case in his class, always messing up and making things explode in such a way that Severus was sure that a curse was placed on him that caused him to be so clumsy and destructive. He sighed mentally and tried not to startle the boy, stopping at his station and standing there for a long moment, waiting to be acknowledged brown haired child. When he was not, he carefully placed a hand on the child's shoulder.

"AH!" the boy screamed, throwing himself out of his tall stool. He hit the ground hard, his chair clattering after him. All eyes turned to the duo, Severus standing his, despite being quite skinny, six feet even height and the cowering child on the ground. Whispers broke out and several students tried to inch over and assist the boy but was stopped as Severus tossed a glare at them all.

"Class is dismissed. Do not bother cleaning your stations, simply leave," he ordered the brats. They continued to whisper to each other, not doubt in the process of spreading some vicious rumors and making this incident a lot larger than what it was however none of them moved. Severus whirled on the brats, obsidian eyes flashing and thin lips pulling into a sneer, "If you are waiting for a golden train to appear and transport you from my class, then you are waiting in vain. Now. GET. OUT!"

That sent them scrambling, picking up bags and snatching their books up as they made a hasty retreat from the classroom. Severus turned to see the Longbottom boy attempting to do the same but he stopped the boy with a hand on his shoulder.

"Not you," he said although he was much nicer to this boy than his classmates. Neville flinched under his hand but never picked up his head, keeping it down turned with his body trembling and his hair shadowing his face. Severus sighed and tried to put all the goodness and love for a child that he could within his words, "Mr. Longbottom… you have been rather distracted in my class as of late."

"I-I'm sorry Mr. Snape… I don't know why I'm like that," Neville whispered low and Severus could almost hear the tears pulling in his eyes. The chemist pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head roughly. Really, he was not cut out for this, he needed to be back in his own lab with his own research trying to find a cure for AIDS or something. The black clad man placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder and watched as the boy flinched and then held himself as stiffly as possible.

"Neville, why won't you look at me?" Severus inquired, suspicion building by the second. He knew only two reasons as to why the boy would hide his face in such a strong manner and he highly doubted that Neville was this ashamed of himself. He moved faster than Neville could move backwards and grasped the boy by the cheeks. He tilted the young face up and nearly flinched as he caught full sight of the purple-blue black eye the child was sporting. Neville recoiled from his grip and gathered his books hurriedly. Severus easily stopped him with another hand to the shoulder although now he was leading him to his desk, picking the heavy child up and placing him down on the wooden surface before going to the other side.

"Who did this to you Neville?" Severus came back around with two small canisters, forcing the child's head to cock backwards and pull all of the brown strands from his face.

"You-you won't believe me," Neville stuttered out, tears coming to his eyes but these were tears of relief as the man applied a calming balm to his battered eye. Severus sighed and continued treating the child's eye, being careful with his administration.

"You do not know much about me… well, of course you don't," Snape grumbled something about nosy children before continuing, "I did not grow up in a very welcoming home and my father was not a loving man. When I went to school, I did not find friends there and was often strongly hated by my peers… I nearly always had bruises but no one ever listened to me or my side of the story." Neville wasn't sure if he truly believed that Professor Snape was bullied even if he was a kid when it happened. Nothing could ever make Neville think that this fearsome, if rather thin, man could have been a weak boy.

"The reason why I am telling you this, Mr. Longbottom, is so that you understand that I will never disregard what you say," Snape finished placing the cooling ointment on his eye and sat back, carefully looking at him. Neville licked his lips and slowly grabbed the man's hand, needing something to concentrate on.

"It… The Monster. He comes for me every night and he always hurts me," Neville confessed to the man, twisting the fingers gently in his grasp. They were really, really long and very pale now that he stared at them. The very tip of the pale digits were stained a pale yellow for some reason although he was sure that he could see hints of pink, red, and purple too. He wondered how it came to be like that but he didn't think long on it because he could feel the onyx, beetle like eyes staring at him. He looked up and saw that the man was searching his face, eyes incredulous and Neville felt his heart drop. "You don't believe… do you?" Tears pulled in the boy's eyes and he wanted nothing more than to jump off the desk and run far away from his teacher and never come back.

"No… no… I believe you," Severus slowly assured him and Neville waited for a grin to crack on his face or some kind of amused scoff but it never came. In fact the man met his eyes evenly before opening the second container which turned out to be a mirror and allowed Neville to see his face. The black eye… it was gone! Neville gaped and brought a hand up to touch his eye and didn't feel any pain.

"Wow… what was that stuff you gave me? It's awesome!" Neville gasped. Professor Snape's face turned a light shade of pink before the man shrugged off his comment.

"It was a simple remedy to bruises that I created when I was twelve. I will explain the science when you are older and can actually understand," Snape gave a pat to his head. Neville smiled softly and jumped off the desk, nearly landing on his face but was caught expertly by his professor. "We will talk more about your monster at a later time. Now, go on to your next class."

Neville nodded and walked from the class, expression thoughtful. Professor Snape was the first person to believe him and, for the first time, a weight was lifting off his shoulders.

(**)

This time he had pushed his toy chest in front of the door, tilting a chair under the knob too so that the monster couldn't get him. He wasn't sure if it would work—he had never tried to do anything against the monster, he always just bit his lip and let it hurt him because he feared angering it. Brown eyes watched carefully as the knob slowly turned, the monster obviously thinking to taunt him as the night before only this time… this time the door did not open. It was working. His barricade was working!

The monster did not enjoy this and a deep growl reached the boy's ears before something slammed into the door. The boy flinched hard, bringing the cover to his nose, resisting the urge to hide completely. Another sharp attack caused his door to shudder under the pressure but it was holding well. The boy scooted to the end of his door, as far from the beast as he could.

"Neeeeeevillllle," it crooned from the other side, dragging its nails against the wood. With a whimper, little hands slapped over large ears, blocking out the oily voice that he had once trusted when he was younger. Yes, there was a time when he trusted this beast but now he knew that it was nothing but a monster and it would only hurt him. Tears pooled in his eyes and he burrowed under his blankets, shoving his head under his pillow and trying to ignore the monster standing outside his door.

Waiting.

Watching.

Neville did not sleep so well that night.

(**)

"The boy claims that a monster is attacking him," Severus told the principal of the school he worked at. The two of them were in the nurse's office. It seemed that Neville had fainted in the middle of gym and was taken in to the nurse. Poppy had examined him and noted that the boy was completely and utterly exhausted. The dark smudges under his eyes that had nothing to do with bruises or his long lashes spoke volumes as to how much sleep the child had been getting. She also realized that he had a huge knot on the back of his head that wasn't from fainting. It was so big that she had feared he had a concussion but it seemed that the child's thick skull was resilient.

"Hm, obviously he is substituting this 'monster' with someone that he sees as a monster," Albus hummed, concern in his voice. Severus hesitated, biting into his lip to keep from speaking his mind. He did not want to seem insane in front of his very forgiving employer but the way Neville had spoken… he simply knew that the child was definitely not speaking of an illusion that a human's mind could create to shield it from horrible damage. The child truly believed that a monster was hurting him in the literal sense.

"We cannot do anything officially until he says it more directly—we must tread carefully," Albus warned as he gazed at his youngest teacher.

"Yes Headmaster," Severus nodded then he noticed that Neville was coming back into consciousness, "Hello Mr. Longbottom."

The child gave a harsh flinch as he sat up on the bed, eyes darting around. Albus, of course, chose this moment to disappear and leave Severus to deal with the boy. Dammit, he was not made for emotional talks especially if he was trying to soothe a being rather than aggravate them! He'd poison that old bastard.

"It seems that you have finally awakened—you fainted from the lack of sleep and pure exhaustion while playing a game of dodge ball," Severus told the slightly panicked child in a very dry voice, looking over the boy. Neville had obviously realized that he wasn't in danger, his chest rising and falling at a more normal pace. He laid back in the soft cot that he had been provided and let out a small sigh.

"I've been keeping the monster from getting in my room—I blocked my door really good and its worked for three whole days now," Neville whispered, eyes gleaming with his triumph. Severus felt a small grin grace his lips and he pulled a seat to the child's bedside. He felt oddly proud of the boy for conquering the monster if only for a short time and at the cost of his health.

"Has it now…? How did you gain the bump to your head?" Severus tilted his head.

"I was placing my barricade down and it rushed at my door before I could finish and I fell… but then I got up and put it back before it could get in," Neville felt a rush of pride and happiness peak within his vocal cords. Deep within his mind, he knew that eventually this method would cease to work but he had been going without being beaten and bruised and scratched so it was okay. It was okay… wasn't it?

(**)

The boy sat up on his bed, confused eyes staring hard at the door. The monster wasn't trying to get in. He didn't hear its sharp claws scratching at the door or the disgusting voice that teased him mercilessly, that told him silently that eventually it would break through his door and then break him. The boy slid off his bed and crept to his door, heart pounding harder than it ever did. This was bad. This was so, so bad.

The boy knew that his luck was not so good that the monster would simply leave him be after not getting within his doors. His pink tongue darted out to bring some moisture to his dry lips as he tried to process a way to keep himself safe to—

"Ah!" the boy let out a sharp cry as something hit him hard in the back and sent him flying into his barricade, smacking his head roughly against the toy chest. The boy slurred out a yelp and attempted to scramble to his feet, hand coming up slowly to press into the gash that he knows is there. He turned around and was met by glowing red eyes set within a white skull. Oh God, it was the monster! It had already been in his room, probably hiding within his closet or under his bed like a true boogey man.

"No, leave me alone!" he whimpered, trying to push his toy chest. It was rather heavy which made it a good thing to put there for the nights but now the weight worked against him, trapping him within his room. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough!

"Oh Nevilllllle!" it called out. Neville looked over his shoulder to see the long serpent like tongue come out to glide over dagger sharp teeth that gleamed from behind nearly invisible lips. A cry of horror erupted from his throat and he tried to call out for someone to help him. He tried to call for his mum who never heard his screams, tried to call for his pa—anyone!

"PLEASE HELP ME!" he cried, feeling the claws digging into his back. He banged harshly at his door, his fists tiny against the large wood that stood millions of feet above his head and must have been sixty feet thick because no one came. No one helped him. Blood flowed in rivers down his back and pain crashed into the little boy.

The monster had its fun that night and no one was there to help the little boy.

No one.

(**)

"Albus we cannot just let this continue! I went to his house and it was just barely enough time to save his life! He was absolutely covered in cuts, bruises and what looked to be lacerations from a whip!" Severus raged to his employer. He had been sick to his stomach when he ventured to the Longbottom home and saw that the front door was open. No one was there but he could hear the little boy sobbing upstairs and then he saw it. He saw the blood seeping from under the door and onto the hardwood floor. It took him three tries before he could unblock the door and nearly five seconds before he could breathe once he spotted the child in the dim room.

"My boy, what is it that we can do? The police have already been contacted because of the hospital and they are doing an investigation but there is no proof that Alice or Frank has done anything to harm their child," Albus told his young teacher. The pale man glared hotly at him, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Albus, take the boy out of that house. Once he is recovered, do not allow him to go back. You are a very important figure in this town and you have the power to free the boy. So Do. It," he hissed out the last words, barely containing himself from lashing out at the old man in a more physical way. He wanted Neville away from those people before it was too late. He did not want to wake up one morning and see that the child was dead.

(**)

Oh no, they didn't believe him. They still didn't believe him. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how loud he cried, no one ever believed him except for one man but that one man wasn't enough. He knew that it was his Professor Snape that had saved him. He knew that it was the thin man that had carried him carefully from his room and bounded his wounds before taking him to a hospital and he was so thankful. He knew that the monster would have continued until he died—clawed him until there was no more blood to be spilled and it scared him.

Tears pooled in Neville's eyes as he watched the officers leave his room. He looked at the machine attached to his chest and then back at the closed door. They had all given him looks and he knew that they thought that it was his mum and da that did this to him but that was wrong. He hadn't seen the two of them in weeks and neither of them even resembled the monster that hurt him. Why didn't anyone believe him?

Neville turned onto his side and curled into as small of ball as he could but then his eyes drifted onto the small bowl of flowers. They weren't as colorful as the flowers that his classmates had grouped together to get him but they were quite pretty and the spidery, sharp letters within the 'Get Well' card was something he would definitely rather see than the sloppy handwriting of his peers. Neville stretched forward and snatched up the card, reading the words over and over.

_I will do all in my power to help you, Mr. Longbottom but you must be strong and resist this beast. You are stronger than it._

_S. Snape _

The tears that Neville had tried to hold back spilled down his cheeks and he curled around the cardboard, allowing it to lull him to sleep.

(**)

"Neeeevilllllle," the bitterly sweet voice crooned. The boy immediately awakened from his dull dreams but he did not try to get off the thin bed and run because he knew that he would not get far. Instead he shifted until he could fully see the monster with its long horns and its blood red eyes, sharp teeth. He stared at it, fear making his body tremble but he did not cry out as it came closer to him, claws reaching out to stroke his cheek in an almost gentle matter.

"I… I'm not scared of you. I'm stronger than you—you can't scare me anymore," the little boy whispered. He was stronger than it because he knew that someone was out there, someone cared enough to hear his screams and would run to help him. The boy, Neville, was strong enough to hold out until help could come. He could beat It.

"He won't help you now… I won't let you go," the thing spat and curled its hands around Neville's throat. The boy let out a gurgle and reached up, scratching at the scaly hand and trying to pull it away from him. He couldn't breathe. His lungs worked desperately to try and bring oxygen forward but it wasn't working. Tears blurred his vision but he didn't take his eyes off the Monster. He was better than It. He was stronger. He could win… he… he could…?

(**)

The wind blew harshly, almost screaming even as rain tore through the area with the pounding of fists. In a sea of umbrellas and crying humans, one man stood out more than the rest. He did not have anything to save him from the liquid attacks and tears did not fall down his thin, stern face. He took the rain and bottled his anguish as though to punish himself. He did not tear his eyes from the little white casket that was slowly lowered into the ground, laden with flowers that were blown into the grave by the howling wind. The man stepped forward and threw a flower into the grave of the little boy, not looking at the tombstone lest he broke down and began to cry as the children and adults around him did.

He had been too late—too late to save the boy from his monster, too late to help him but they said that he died of cardiac arrest. That it was peaceful but the man knew better. He knew that nothing about this child's death was natural. It did not matter that the boy had a weak heart, nothing would make him forget the fearful brown eyes, the relief he saw when he found him almost bleeding to death in his barricaded room.

Neville Longbottom had been murdered in cold blood by none of than a monster. As the man turned around to leave, he saw… something through the curtain of horizontal rain. It was a being, leaning against a tree not too far away. Even from this distance, he could see the glowing red eyes and the sharp white teeth as they grinned out at him. The thing raised its hand and the man knew. He knew deep within his heart that this was the thing that killed Neville.

This was The Monster.

(**)

The small boy sighed as he finally stepped into his home, green eyes looking warily through the darkened home. He wasn't sure where his aunt and uncle were but, at the moment, he didn't care because he was so depressed. His friend had died and he had to attend the funeral practically by himself, taking a cab there and back with money he found in his aunt's room. The woman would definitely be mad but he didn't care. That boy had been his friend and now he was gone.

The little boy slowly made his way up the stairs, uncaring that he was tracking water and threw himself down on his bed. As he laid upon his thin bed, he felt something change within his room. He wasn't sure what it was but it was dangerous so he turned on his back.

"Hello…?" he called out, green eyes searching the darkness within his room as though he could see through it.

"Why hello Haaaarrrryyyy," a voice cooed.

(**)

The End

Or should I say 'The Monster'…? I am so sorry for that. Not really good with puns but I try. Um, so yeah… it took me awhile to pump this out (poor choice of words) and I hope it was enjoyed! Well, not enjoyed but hey, whatever tethers your dragon.

Thank you for reviewing, especially if you took the time to get EVERY chapter. That is insanely awesome and just makes me feel loved. Comment if you like it or don't (there's always bound to be someone that doesn't like something).

If anyone wants to know: In the original story, the monster turns out to be the mum's boyfriend and the boy ends up killing him with child imagination and belief (i.e. he drew a picture of the 'monster' and tore it up thus killing the monster in real life) but that is soooo boring.


	14. Erlkönig

Erlkönig

Not sure if this is scary but I decided to go with Remus on this one. It made more sense with Remus despite the urge to use the obvious (to me) Harry/Voldemort combo.

Summary: The Wolf King, Fenrir, calls out for Remus.

Warning: involves another kid and I don't own the story, hence the title.

(**)

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting its beautiful glow down onto the town. The wind wafted lightly through the streets, blowing leaves along the almost completely dark sidewalks. A shiver ran up and down one lone boy's spine while his golden eyes darted around nervously, watching the progress of the leaves before darting along every patch of darkness. The little boy bit deep into his fleshy bottom lip and pulled his traveling cloak tighter to his body, trying to bring warmth to his chilly bones.

"Remus." A heavy hand landed on the child's shoulder, tearing a loud scream from the child's throat and forcing him to whirl around and come face to face with… his father. The man looked down at him, face shocked and quite wary at the outburst.

"Oh Daddy, it's you!" Relief flooded the child and he launched himself at the large man, burying his face into the man's thick coat and trying to hide within the folds. The large hands of his father landed on his back, giving hesitant rubs as he was not very sure as to what to do.

"Child, why are you so jumpy this evening?" Dante asked of his son while attempting to keep the exasperation from his tone. The boy was small and sickly which caused him to be very shy around other people, especially children. Dante normally left the boy home with his wife (who could cater to him) when he went into the local village for meetings but Cassandra had insisted that the boy needed to get out more. She insisted that Remus could make some friends amongst the village children but now the boy seemed even more disturbed than when he first entered the village.

"Daddy, I'm scared of Fenrir getting me!" Remus squeaked into his father's stomach. Dante sighed low under his breath and continued his sad attempt at soothing his son. He knew of Fenrir, having heard the folklore as a child. The old people would gather children around and tell them of the ghost Wolf King, Fenrir that lurked along the forests and in the darkness of the streets. He would lure children into his home and never let them leave, kill them. The tale was utter nonsense but it was obvious that the village children had taken advantage of the new child and placed the frightening thoughts within his mind.

"Remus, listen to me," Dante sighed, falling to his knees in front of his son. He placed large hands on the tiny shoulders and smiled comforting. He needed to nip this in the bud right this second unless he wanted Cassandra to kill him for bringing her child back half out of his mind, "There is no Fenrir. He will not get you because he does not exist. He's just a story. Do you understand?"

Remus bit into his lip, looking into his father's eyes and nodded, trying to reassure himself that his papa was right. There was no Fenrir, despite what the kids had told him. His papa wouldn't lie but then again… the urchins had told him that Fenrir only went after children. He only wanted children for his home to be slaves for years on end until he finally tired of them and devoured them whole. So only they could see them.

Dante, unaware of his child's thoughts, hefted the two of them onto the beautiful horse he owned and they began their ride home, Remus within the warmth of his father's strong arms although he sat a little further back as he looked around at the dark trees they passed through in their forest.

"Chilllld… come to me," a deep voice carried along in the winds and caught the child's attention. Remus immediately stiffened and whipped his head around, looking over to the side. There stood a man, tall and broad shouldered with wild eyes and flowing dark robes that contradicted the scruffy hair and the long nails. He smiled a bloodstained, sharp smile at Remus and held out his hand. A scream caught in Remus' throat, heart nearly coming through his fragile bones at the sight of the man that he knew to be the Wolf King—Fenrir. Remus tried to turn as much as he could within the warm embrace of his father's arms.

"Remus, why are you hiding within my coats? You will fall with all this jostling movements," the boy's father warned gently, slowing the horse and probably sending the child into worse fits as he turned his large golden eyes up to the man.

"Daddy, Fenrir is close to us, we have to hurry! Don't you see him with his wild hair and flowing robes!?" Remus squeaked, pointing at the large man standing but yards away. Dante turned his head and searched the trees that surrounded them, seeing nothing.

"Remus, there is no Fenrir. It is just the mist rising over the ground," Dante told the little boy; he kept the horse's trot at a steady, even pace in hopes of soothing the child. Remus shook his head and looked once more to the side, seeing at the Wolf King still stood there, his smile a bit more gentle but his eyes still wide and hand still reaching.

"Oh come to me child—come with me. I have a large castle with many games for you to play and a beach with lovely flowers. My mother will make you clothes sewn with gold," Fenrir promised with his lies. Remus' let out a scream and slapped his hands over his ears, tears springing to his eyes. The Wolf King was trying to get him, even as he buried his face into his father's coat once more, he could feel the hot breath of the Wolf King on the back of his neck. He could almost taste the iron of blood that laid upon the Ghostly King's tongue as though it were inside his own mouth.

"Daddy, daddy! Don't you hear him!? Don't you feel his breath?" Remus pleaded of his father. Dante raised a hand to his son's head, trying to calm the hysterical child.

"Calm down, it's simply your imagination playing tricks on your mind. The wind is simply sighing through withering leaves falling from trees," Dante reassured his small son. Remus shook his head, tears flowing down his cheeks. The Wolf King was there, he was there and he was trying to get Remus. He could still feel the breath on his neck, taste the iron on his tongue and see the King from behind his closed kids. He wouldn't leave him alone, he wouldn't give up until he had Remus in his castle. He turned his head once more and saw the Wolf King except now he was surrounded by pretty girls with beautiful smiles and pale skin, pink hair upon their heads.

"Will you come now, child? My daughters will tend to you with sisterly care. They will cradle and rock you, sing you to sleep as long as you wish," Fenrir almost purred, sharp nails urging the girls to dance around him, coming close to the horse before jumping back to their father. Remus clutched onto his father's arm.

"Daddy, daddy, don't you see the Wolf King's daughters!? He's showing them to me!" Remus urged his father to see the wicked king and his dancing daughters but Fenrir's predatory grin told Remus that his papa didn't see him. He didn't see the girls with the pink hair or the evil ghost trying to steal him away.

"Remus, my darling child, I see it alright," Dante said, surprising Remus and bringing hope to his soul. He whipped his head up to his father and smiled, "It is the aged grey willows deceiving you." The smile that was on Remus' face fell off immediately and he looked back to the Wolf King. He looked angry. He looked so angry with his eyes burning an unholy Hell that promised pain and death to the small child. His mouth twisted in a dark scowl and the robes that once draped over him in a kingly fashion were now tattered and bloody, the hair even more knotted.

"I love your innocent beauty and, if you aren't willing then I will take you by FORCE!" Fenrir shouted, reaching out for him and this time he grabbed him. His sharp nails dug into his skinny little arm and brought blood to the surface. Remus let out a sickening howl, fighting against the monster and grabbing for his father to stop the king from dragging him off.

"Daddy, DADDY! He's got me, HE'S HURTING ME!" Remus wailed, mouth opening wide. Dante wrapped his arm around his son's middle, pulling the child high up his chest as he realized that the boy was no longer simply scaring himself but now believed he was hurt. He urged their horse to go faster, racing to their stone home where the walls should soothe the child's fears. As they exited the forest, Dante noticed that the skinny hand that had been gripping him so hard and tight was now simply limp. The man yanked his horse into a stop and looked down at his son, at his wide frightened eyes and tear streaked cheeks. His mouth was opened wide to reveal bright red. With a shaking hand, Dante placed his fingers against the boy's neck.

He was dead.

(**)

The End

So the question is, what killed Remus?

P.S. I forgot that Remus's father's name is John (maybe) so I made up something. And I love all of your words and hope for more comments!


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